


TRANSFORMATION, PART IV: Resurrection of the Shadow Broker

by Desert Sunrise (sniderde92), Old_Gamer



Series: Transformation [4]
Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 21:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 73,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15518496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniderde92/pseuds/Desert%20Sunrise, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Old_Gamer/pseuds/Old_Gamer
Summary: The Shadow Broker: An entity that has seemingly lived forever, indomitable and insatiable in its thirst for information, instilling hope and fear into its patron’s lives … and haunting those who pray their secrets are never found.  The institution was nearly destroyed by the Reaper War—many thought it was.  This is the story of its rebirth … of the Resurrection of the Shadow Broker.





	1. The Power of Information · PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> With the exception of the OCs and extended timeline created by my co-writer and myself, EA/Bioware owns everything about the Mass Effect universe.

  _True power lies not in the spotlight, but in the influential shadows. —_ J. Adam Snyder

* * *

 ** _CE_** – Common Era … the beginning of Galactic Standard Time ( **GST** )  
**_Epiphany_** \- an illuminating discovery, realization, or disclosure

* * *

Data.  Facts and figures.  Intelligence.  Statistics.  Whatever term is used to describe it, the gathering, organization and dissemination of information has seemingly been a requirement since the rise of civilized beings, whether asari, batarian, human, salarian, or turian, just to name the galaxy’s five dominant, spaceflight capable races.

Of these, the asari and salarians, followed by the turians, discovered and settled the enormous space station that came to be known as the Citadel, the only other artificial construct in an otherwise empty system; it shares the system with a mass relay, one of a network of similarly ancient devices found to be scattered throughout the galaxy.

Since the earliest days of their combined, recorded history, all the races gathered and traded, then bought and sold information.  The development of automated data recovery systems rapidly became increasingly more sophisticated, gaining in ability … and capacity.  Over time, this gave rise to people of various races becoming information brokers, first trading, then buying information for the lowest acceptable price and selling it for as much as the buyer was willing to pay.

Of these, one broker came to dominate the trade, with a veritable army of gatherers—those that obtained information about anything and everything for their employer—and an army of enforcers, charged with preventing anyone from stealing data from the broker.  _This_ broker was never seen, preferring to work clandestinely, behind the scenes … _in the shadows_.  This trader, seeming to have been in business in perpetuity, came to be known as the _Shadow Broker_.

As the undisputed ruler of a vast information trading organization, the Broker _always_ sells to the highest bidder; the buying and selling of every secret is done in such a way as to prevent any one customer from being allowed to gain a significant advantage.  This strategy forces all of the Broker’s customers to continue trading with the Broker in order to avoid becoming disadvantaged, thus ensuring the Broker’s continued dominance of the business.

* * *

Prior to 2185-CE, the identity … even the race of the Shadow Broker was a mystery.  This changed dramatically when an asari, Dr Liara T’Soni—accompanied by Commander Rachaél Shepard and a squad from the Cerberus-owned frigate _Normandy SR-2—_ boarded the Broker’s unnamed ship in geosynchronous orbit above the planet Hagalaz, in order to free Feron, a drell information trafficker captured and imprisoned by soldiers employed by the Broker.

Since the ship had been constructed and placed in orbit prior to the discovery of the yahg race in 2125-CE, Liara theorized that _this_ Broker, at some point after having been smuggled from his home world of Parnack, assumed the position and title after murdering the previous Shadow Broker.  As smart as he was ruthless, the yahg had been running the organization for at least six decades.  It was during their final, desperate battle aboard the Broker’s Ship that Shepard managed to distract the beast just long enough for Liara to kill him.

As they had already eliminated all the operatives aware of the Broker’s true identity, Liara chose to continue in her role as an information broker by taking over the ship and running the organization, leaving no one the wiser that a transition had taken place.  As the new Shadow Broker, Liara vowed to help Shepard discover a strategy to combat and defeat the Reapers.

Shortly after Commander Shepard was incarcerated at an Alliance facility in Vancouver, the Illusive Man ordered several of his cruisers to attack and destroy the Shadow Broker’s ship.  Upon learning of this, Liara and Feron loaded as much of her vital equipment as possible into a shuttle and escaped before the Cerberus fleet’s arrival.  With the shuttle far enough away to remain undetected by Cerberus, Liara remotely piloted the Broker’s massive ship on a collision course with one of the Cerberus cruisers; they watched in grim satisfaction as the mangled remains of both vessels careened into the destructive atmosphere of Hagalaz.

Thanks to Shepard’s destruction of the Bahak relay, Liara knew the Reapers arrival in the galaxy had been postponed, if only for a limited amount of time.  Upon reaching the Citadel after a two-relay jump from the Hourglass Nebula, Liara purchased a previously owned, asari-manufactured light corvette, into which she and Feron installed all the special equipment they had salvaged from the Broker’s ship.  With her renewed ability to clandestinely look for information, she contacted Admiral Hackett of the System’s Alliance Navy and voiced her concerns about the Reapers; he agreed with her and enlisted her aid in discovering a way to stop them.  Once again, she began regularly coming into conflict with the Illusive Man and Cerberus, as her own agents started crossing paths with his.

When a number of her leads pointed to plans for a device in the Prothean archives on Mars, Hackett sent her there to retrieve them.  Upon learning of this, the Illusive Man sent troops there to intercept T’Soni, retrieve whatever she had discovered, then kill her.  It was during this time the Reapers, having arrived in the Kite’s Nest en masse—as well as having arrived in other clusters along the galaxy’s outer rim—utilized the relay in the Harsa System to plow through the Exodus Cluster on their way to an all-out assault of Earth.

* * *

Rather than risk taking her equipment-laden corvette to Mars, Dr T’Soni had left it in the hands of Feron, the drell she had rescued from the clutches of the previous Broker.  As Feron labored unaided to perform the Broker’s standard daily operations without interruption, Liara had flown to Mars in an Alliance shuttlecraft to continue her research.  After being rescued from Cerberus troops by Commander Shepard, Major Kaidan Alenko and Lieutenant James Vega, she traveled to the Citadel on board the _Normandy_ , only to endure a truly disappointing meeting with the Council.  Liara decided to have Feron rendezvous with the stealth frigate in order to transfer and install a significant portion of her specialized equipment into Miranda Lawson’s former quarters on the ship.

In her desperate need for crewmen she could trust, Shepard used her status as a Council Spectre to intercede on behalf of Ken Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels.  The engineers—having left the Systems Alliance to work on the _Normandy SR-2_ under Commander Shepard—had been arrested and detained as Cerberus collaborators; granting them amnesty so they were free to rejoin the ship on which they’d been assigned since its maiden flight had an additional benefit—the pair were able to assist the Broker in connecting and testing the equipment as they relocated it from the corvette, which Liara then gave to Feron, just before sending him forward as a trusted special agent of the Broker.

With Liara firmly embedded in her new quarters on the port side of Deck Three, she continued her work as the Shadow Broker while also going planet-side with Shepard on their two-fold mission to rally the rest of the galaxy’s species in the war against the Reapers _and_ to defeat Cerberus and the Illusive Man as he attempted to find a way to control the invaders for his own selfish purposes.  At the conclusion of the war, the _Normandy,_ having failed to reach the Charon relay before becoming engulfed in the green energy wave from the Crucible, was cast to the far reaches of the galaxy.

* * *

My full name is Samantha Daunton Traynor, but only my mother ever called me by all three … usually when I was in some kind of major trouble.  My friends call me Sammy, or just Sam.  Professionally, it’s generally just Traynor.  With everything that has been going on in my life of late, I thought it might be useful to write a bit about what led up to me assuming the role of the most powerful information broker in the galaxy … not that this will ever see the light of day.

I spent just over a decade in the Systems Alliance Military, the details of which I will not go into here; suffice it to say that the longer I stayed, the more I became convinced the Alliance is nothing more than a giant grinder designed to use, then crush the people that work for them, until there is nothing left but an empty husk, similar to what the Reapers created when they invaded the galaxy. 

Rather than continue to suffer their utter disregard for my many achievements, including graduating from a black ops training program at the top of my class, I resigned.  Neither my captain nor the Fleet Admiral would clear my service record of all the redactions; additionally, they wanted me to volunteer to live inside the Reaper/Repository Iringù-Eßizkur and use the specialized equipment—left behind by the previous information broker—for Alliance needs only.  Becoming a private citizen was the _only_ way I would use the Broker’s equipment.  Any information I retrieved would be sold to the highest bidder, and Admiral Steven Hackett could take the Systems Alliance and fly straight to hell.

With help from a former comrade-in-arms, now a private citizen himself, I began the process of rebuilding the network of gatherers … and enforcers, in every part of the galaxy.  It will take some time, but make no mistake!  The title _Shadow Broker_ will once again strike fear into the hearts of anyone in the business of hiding secrets.

* * *

During the _Normandy’s_ return trip from the edge of the galaxy, docked inside the Nazara-class Reaper Žiuk’Durmah—henceforth referred to as a _Repository—_ I was taking a break on the docking platform outside the ship’s port side airlock.  While idly studying Iringù-Eßizkur, the Destroyer-class Repository docked ahead of the frigate while the food and fuel supplies it had brought were being transferred to the _Normandy’s_ hanger bay, I experienced what I could only describe as an epiphany.

Convinced the Alliance would want to remove Liara and all her equipment from the frigate as soon as we returned to the Citadel, I had been attempting to think of a way for the Shadow Broker to retain her independence from oversight … by _any_ government or race.  To that end, Liara required her own ship; upon closer inspection, I believed I had found exactly what was needed—a _vessel_ similar in size to the _Normandy_.  It was small enough to be difficult to see or find, able to safely touch down on most Earth-like planets and then leave under its own power, and incredibly fast and exceedingly well-armed for its size.  Possessing a communications ability second-to-none, it also did not require a potentially corruptible … and expensive … crew to fly or maintain her.

Once I convinced Liara to transfer to Iringù-Eßizkur, it was only a matter of disconnecting all the specialized equipment from her quarters on the _Normandy_ , moving it in an orderly fashion to Iringù-Eßizkur’s interior and—along with the assistance of Tali’Zorah, Bethany Westmoreland and Sarah Campbell—hooking it all into the Repository’s power and communications grid.

Liara, while expressing some trepidation at the idea of traveling by herself inside a living machine, had not requested that anyone from the _Normandy_ accompany her.

At a meeting in the ship’s conference room, it was decided that she would definitely need a companion … someone capable of performing some of the ‘heavy lifting’ that _might_ become necessary should she succeed in finding and boarding any of the facilities abandoned by Cerberus during the Reaper War.

Major Alenko expressed doubt that organic survivors would be found at any of the stations Liara might reach, but didn’t wish for her to have to enter any of them alone, observing it wouldn’t be the same as an archeological expedition.

Of the several candidates aboard the _Normandy_ , the most logical choices were the non-Alliance personnel aboard.  Turian general Garrus Vakarian and quarian engineer Tali’Zorah vas Normandy had each fought alongside T’Soni on many of Shepard’s ground missions during the war, mainly against Cerberus troops attempting to thwart the commander’s efforts to bring the different races together against the common threat to galactic civilization.

Tali would have joined Liara with no hesitation, _if_ she had been going to travel in a conventional space-faring vessel; as she would be venturing forth inside a Reaper—a living machine—the quarian told of being sick to her stomach each evening after spending a day inside Iringù-Eßizkur running cables and connecting equipment to the power and comms grid inside the construct.  Expressing her regrets, she told Garrus she would hug and kiss him when he left but could not bring herself to join him.

And so it was that Liara T’Soni, accompanied by the turian general Garrus Vakarian, placed her trust in a living machine—a heavy Destroyer-class Reaper turned Repository by Shepard’s choice on the Crucible—as they departed from the Sol System bound for Arcturus.  From there, Iringù-Eßizkur set her course for the Horse Head Nebula, utilizing her own impressive FTL capability to travel through dark space between systems without the benefit of the still disabled Mass Relays. The trip across interstellar space would take four-to-five weeks to complete, giving Liara plenty of time to monitor her data feeds and compile information while listening to Rachaél’s extensive collection of classical music from Earth’s mid-seventeenth to late-nineteenth centuries.

* * *

**♦ FROM THE PERSONAL LOGS of the SHADOW BROKER  ♦**

Liara’s heart was in her throat as she activated the inner airlock hatch to gain access to Cronos Station.  She cautiously following Garrus into the first chamber inside the airlock; a compartment for repair crews to suit up for work outside the station.  Even while the memories dredged up by the big turian’s mention of the previous broker’s ship over Hagalaz had her mentally shuddering, she followed him deeper into the station.

Of great interest to the asari was the number and variety of Cerberus troops, long since dead where they fell.  The walls and interior furnishings all bore silent witness to the ferocity of the battle waged against them by Shepard, EDI and Vega – additionally, there were shards and pieces from shattered shield generators and destroyed gun turrets scattered across the decking.

With guidance from Iringù-Eßizkur, Liara found the entrance to the Illusive Man’s private sanctuary; there she discovered a treasure-trove of terminals connected to the station’s servers.  Rather than attempt to look at the multitude of files available to her, she directed Iringù-Eßizkur to download copies of all the files so she could study them at her leisure while her Guardian-Repository traveled to her next destination, Lazarus Station.

* * *

Upon boarding and exploring Lazarus Station, Liara was horrified to discover an enormous number of inactive mechs, still in their shipping crates; unfortunately, the storage area was patrolled by a number of active LOKI Mechs, along with several YMIR Heavies.

She and Garrus had ultimately retreated back to the station’s hanger deck in order to up-armor and equip themselves with heavier weapons.  After returning to the storage area and dealing with all the active mechanical threats to their safety, the pair were able to access the cold-storage areas at the far side of the vast warehouse.

Discovering the contents of the stasis pods inside one of several cold-storage compartments had Liara believing she had seen ghosts; each pod contained a living clone of Rachaél Shepard, eyes closed and face relaxed as if asleep.  After catching her breath and being assured by Garrus that she was not imagining things, the pair once again returned to Iringù-Eßizkur.  She had the Repository send a message to Harbinger, requesting the services of Miranda Lawson.

When the _Hong Kong II_ and _Normandy_ arrived in the system, Liara returned to the _Normandy_ to confer with Rachaél while Garrus and a squad of Marines more thoroughly explored the storage areas; in addition to the three pods already discovered, the existence of an additional four pods was revealed in an adjacent compartment, each containing a living, apparently healthy clone of Commander Rachaél Shepard.  All had apparently been grown from Shepard’s DNA samples, stolen sometime prior to her _death_ over Alchera and her two-year long reconstruction on a Cerberus operating table.

Before the procedure was begun to join Shepard’s spirit with a cloned body, Miranda Lawson revealed that the majority of Rachaél’s originally repaired body had also been cloned, due to the catastrophic physical injuries she suffered in her uncontrolled plunge to the surface of Alchera.  She surmised that an enormous part of their success in giving her a new life _then_ was attributable to the numerous Reaper-derived implants the Lazarus team had grafted into her body.

After Dr Chakwas and Miranda selected the most viable clone to attempt the procedure, Ken Donnelly and Tali’Zorah rigged several portable power supplies; these were used to keep all of the pods powered during their move from the station to Harbinger’s interior.  Once relocated, the pods would be connected to power sources within the ancient machine.  The plan—once Shepard’s spiritual essence was joined with the clone chosen by Lawson and Dr Chakwas—was for the seven remaining pods to remain powered by the massive Repository for as long as deemed necessary by Rachaél and Liara.

In order to join Shepard’s _spiritual_ self with the corporeal clone, Harbinger uploaded _her_ from the _Normandy’s_ servers into his own memory banks; he then inserted a copy of Shepard’s _spiritual_ essence into the clone’s brain, transforming an essentially blank mind into a copy of Rachaél Shepard, with all her knowledge, memories and experiences as they existed at the moment of transfer.  In theory, she could grow old, reenter Harbinger before death took her physical form and inhabit another clone, thus extending her life past the age when most humans died.

After Liara confirmed to her own satisfaction that the procedure was successful and she could once again hold Rachaél’s physical form in her arms, she finalized plans to leave her post as an information broker and return to Thessia with her human lover, there to formalize her bond with the woman.  Liara T’Soni had given up nearly everything twice in order to bring Shepard back to life.  Upon their return to the Widow System, Admiral Hackett granted the commander sixty days leave from the Alliance so she could travel to Thessia with Liara.

* * *

Meanwhile, with the _Normandy_ and _Hong Kong II_ once again docked at the Citadel, I had been tasked with an _unofficial_ assignment ashore; working in support of Zaeed Massani’s hunt for Blue Suns second-in-command Solem Dal’Serah, I found myself once again entering Iringù-Eßizkur, there to employ the equipment left behind by Liara T’Soni, in order to find a way inside the Blue Suns headquarters building in Delta Ward.

I was accompanied by the _Normandy’s_ new Weapons Systems Division Chief, Master Gunnery Sergeant Sandra Patton; after hacking my way into the fortified building, Sandee and I decimated all the batarian soldiers opposing us.  Unfortunately, I had not expected Dal’Serah to have a bomb in his desk; we both nearly lost our lives from the explosion in that massive piece of furniture.

Fortunately, I had previously discovered Dal’Serah’s emergency ‘bolt-hole’ and mapped it for Massani; unknown to the cowardly batarian, Zaeed was waiting near the tunnel’s exit while Patton and I kicked in the front door.  After sending a message to the _Normandy_ , the wily old merc, with the assistance of Iringù-Eßizkur, followed Dal’Serah to Omega Station; from there, they tracked the batarian to Susskind Station in the Raheel-Leyya System.  Once on the station, it was only a few days’ work for Massani to capture and imprison Solem Dal’Serah and Vido Santiago.

Instructing Iringù-Eßizkur to send a request to Harbinger for backup by the _Normandy_ , Massani’s wait for the ship’s arrival was brief; once the frigate was in the system, the two criminals were moved – notwithstanding interference on the docks by several Blue Suns soldiers – to the ship’s brig for their flight back to Alliance custody on the Citadel.  Of great surprise to Captain Bill Cody, Massani had not carried out his promise to beat either Santiago or Dal’Serah to death with his fists.

* * *

Nearly healed from my numerous injuries, I had been released to light duty and discharged from Huerta Memorial Hospital.  I initiated a comms-call to Liara T’Soni on Thessia; after explaining the reasons for my intention to resign from the Alliance Navy, she advanced me a modest sum of credits to get started and gave me the use of a non-descript apartment in the Citadel’s Bravo Ward.

Having secured financial backing from Dr T’Soni, my next meeting was with my captain on board the _Normandy_  so he could brief me on the Alliance’s need for someone – preferably myself – to be assigned to inhabit Iringù-Eßizkur as an info broker for the Alliance – a new Shadow Broker.  When Cody explained that neither he nor Admiral Hackett would be able—or willing—to correct the redactions and omissions in my permanent service record, I handed him my dog tags along with my resignation from the Systems Alliance Navy.

Resignation accepted, I was a private citizen again—for the first time since age 19—and free of any restrictions imposed by the Systems Alliance.  I boarded Iringù-Eßizkur with one goal in mind—to become an information broker every bit as powerful, and feared—as the murderous yahg that had previously held the position prior to his elimination by Liara T’Soni and Commander Shepard near the end of their campaign to stop the Collectors.

After initiating a search for Griffen Buchanan’s whereabouts, I went shopping, then joined Xiùlán for a quiet dinner and evening together.  Upon finding the freighter on which Buchanan was employed, I surprised him at the Alpha Ward docks right before the _MSV Celestial Viper_ began offloading its cargo.  Later, after accompanying me to my apartment _and_ seeing the inside of the intelligent machine where he’d be expected to live and work part time, he listened to my offer of making him an equal partner in my new endeavor.  With the unexpected loss of his position on the salarian-owned _Celestial_ _Viper_ to a less-expensive salarian replacement forcing his hand, Griff reluctantly agreed to join forces with me and Iringù-Eßizkur.

The Shadow Broker was back in business. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the latest story in the ‘Transformation’ series. My intention is to post each new chapter at the end of the month. Comments are always more than welcome! Thanks for taking the time to read this story.


	2. Spinning Straw Into Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter provides some background and recent history on Traynor’s and Yuán’s former partner/squad member, Griffen Buchanan, from just after the end of the Reaper War.

_No, this is not the beginning of a new chapter in my life; this is the beginning of a new book!  That first book is already closed, ended, and tossed into the seas; this new book is newly opened, has just begun!  Look, it is the first page!  And it is a beautiful one! —_  C. JoyBell C.

* * *

 ** _Kalinan’s Best –_** A salarian drink brewed with marsh grass, winter salt and barley. (Source: CDN)

* * *

 **♦ ROYAL LONDON HOSPITAL, EARTH · SOL SYSTEM ♦  
****◦ June 2187 · Two Months Post** - **War ◦**

Master Chief Petty Officer Griffen ‘Griff’ Buchanan was attempting—without much success—to find a comfortable position for his 206 cm, 97 kg frame in a bed that was clearly designed for someone of a much more modest stature.  After insuring the head of the bed was lying flat, he carefully rolled up on his left side—taking care to ensure all the tubes and wires plugged into his body were free and clear—and slowly drew his legs up with knees bent, until his feet were no longer hanging over the edge of the mattress.

Finally able to relax just a bit, he closed his eyes while attempting to ignore the constant aching of his right shoulder, side, lower back and hip.  Despite receiving the best of care by the doctors here, Griff’s injuries had not responded well to treatment; he had been in this facility since being retrieved from the area where the energy beam from the Citadel had been used to abduct people for conversion.  That he had not died was considered to be a minor miracle by most of the people hearing his story; Buchanan just considered himself fortunate to be alive.  His entire unit, 96 soldiers strong, had been annihilated by overwhelming numbers of Reaper creatures, mostly Husks and Cannibals, with numerous Marauders in the mix.

He didn’t remember, but had been told of being thrown 15 to 20 meters through the air by a passing Mako as it violently exploded upon encountering one of the multitude of red energy beams with which the Reapers were sweeping the area.  He had landed like a discarded child’s toy, coming to rest nearly as destroyed as the pile of broken concrete and shattered steel on which he landed; this hard landing was responsible for his concussion, along with his dislocated right shoulder, five fractured ribs—one of which punctured his lung—bruised liver, three fractured vertebrae and the broken right side of his pelvis.  After undergoing a number of surgeries and spending a full month with his right leg in a traction splint, he was slowly recovering.

Buchanan’s only family had been in San Francisco at the beginning of the war; he had made several attempts to contact them or discover their whereabouts, all without success; as the megalopolis had been virtually leveled in the first wave of Reaper attacks in 2186, it seemed increasingly unlikely that any of his relatives had survived the invasion.

Thinking of family led him to think of his comrades in the military; he wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to Samantha Traynor after she been transferred off of Arcturus Station.  Last news he had of her, she’d been reassigned to the Alliance R&D facility north of London, a number of months prior to the invasion.

His expression clouded at the thought of Sammy fighting against an overwhelming hoard of Reaper creatures; as good as she was—and he had witnessed just how terrifyingly efficient she could be in close-quarters fighting—he felt she would have been overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers, particularly since the creatures seemed completely immune to fear … or pain.

 _Best not to think about that!_ he thought.  _Think about something positive, like walking out of this place without crutches._   Clearing his mind of thoughts about the recent past, particularly of the terrifying final battles, he finally managed to drift off to a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**♦ ALLIANCE BASE, LONDON · EARTH · SOL SYSTEM ♦  
** **◦ August 2187 · Four Months Post-War ◦**

Navy Lieutenant Commander Allison McIntyre looked up from the datapad she was inspecting as the door to her office slid open.  Her aide, standing in the doorway, stated in a moderately loud voice, “Master Chief Buchanan is here for his appointment, Ma’am.”

“Please send him in, Corporal… thank you.”  Rising from her chair, she schooled her expression of surprise at seeing the size of the man that literally filled her doorway as he entered her office.

Bearing only the slightest trace of a limp that seemed to favor his right leg, Griff walked up to her desk, came to attention and said, “Master Chief Buchanan reporting as ordered, Ma’am”

McIntyre smiled as she responded, “Nice to meet you, Master Chief.”  Indicating the chair beside her desk, she added, “Please, have a seat.”  Retaking her own chair as he moved and sat down, she continued, “I was just looking at your service record, Mr Buchanan.  Seems you’re fortunate to have survived the war.”

With a self-deprecating grin, he nodded his head once as he replied, “So I have been told … by everyone that has heard about how I was injured, Ma’am.”  After a brief pause, he added, “And now, thanks to the actions of Commander Shepard on the Crucible, the soulless constructs are helping to repair and rebuild all they destroyed.”  Shaking his head in seeming disbelief, he sighed.

“Sounds as if you’re not completely happy with how the war concluded, Master Chief.”  She studied the solemn face of the man as he looked down at his hands, fingers spread atop his thighs.

Bringing his head up to return her gaze, he explained, “They were winning, Ma’am … no way in hell we could have prevailed against them.  So, I _am_ happy that Shepard and the crew of the _Normandy_ found a way to stop permanently them … but my feeling is that after all the destruction and loss of life galaxy-wide, it seems just a bit strange to be trusting them to help us.”  Griff slowly shook his head as he concluded, “It just feels like we may be unknowingly asking for trouble in the long run.”

McIntyre leaned back slightly as she spun her chair in order to look out the window beside her desk.  “You make a valid point, but we really have no other options; the machines are in the galaxy to stay … at least for the foreseeable future.  We need their help to rebuild, so we accept them and move on with our lives, best we’re able.”  After a few moments, she turned back towards Griff and said, “Speaking of which, I need to see about _your_ future with the Alliance, Master Chief.”

Retrieving the datapad she’d been reviewing before he had entered her office, she studied it for several seconds before saying, “You’ve been released for light duty, Master Chief, which means you’ll be stationed here on Earth… probably for the next six to eight months … maybe up to a year.”  She made several entries on the datapad before looking up at the calm, greenish-gray eyes regarding her.  “You’ll be coordinating the receipt and delivery of relief supplies at the nearby freighter docks.  I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to doing, but there’s a real shortage of people with your organizational skills, Master Chief.  You can make a real difference there while you continue to recover from your injuries.”

The Lieutenant Commander touched the surface of her datapad, prompting Griff’s omnitool to light up in response as it downloaded all the pertinent information from the device.  “Everything you need is on your omnitool, Master Chief … where you’ll be working, who you’ll report to and where you’ll be staying.  Your new CO should be able to assist you with anything else you need.”

McIntyre stood from her chair, prompting Griff to follow suite; she stuck out her hand as she faced him and said, “It was nice to meet you, Mr Buchanan.  And, thank you.”

Griff clasped her hand and pumped it twice as he asked, “For? …”

The woman grinned at him as she explained, “For your service during the war.  Many of our people … too damned many, in my view, gave their last full measure.  I intend to thank all of those still alive as I meet them.”  Releasing his hand, she added, “Good luck to you, Master Chief.”

* * *

 **♦ October 2187 · Six Months Post** - **War ♦**

It had only taken Griffen Buchanan nearly eight weeks to come to a decision regarding his continued service in the Systems Alliance Navy.  As he packed his bags for his move out of base housing, he thought about everything that had taken place since he’d been discharged from the hospital. His stint as a freight coordinator had been … merely okay.  It was a job he was more than capable of doing; after only four weeks without any _real_ challenge, he was bored nearly out of his mind.

Griff didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do next.  His physical recovery from his many injuries had progressed to the point where he was no longer in constant pain, but he had accepted the realty that he would never again be able to jump into trouble without thinking of the consequences.  His numerous surgeries had mended his bones as well as could be expected; thinking of how Yuán Xiùlán’s injured thigh had been repaired after their mission to Cartagena Station made him truly wish he’d been on Thessia for his own bone surgeries.

Choosing to request a medical separation from the Alliance hadn’t been an easy decision; like many of his friends, he had joined right after celebrating his eighteenth birthday.  During the ensuing thirty years, he had participated in numerous _police_ _actions_ on a variety of human colonies and gone on several clandestine missions with a pair of women he had not seen or heard from since right before the start of the War.

Thinking of Yuán and Traynor brought a grim smile to his face.  He had only just learned of Yuán’s transfer from the _Tokyo_ to the _Hong Kong II_ in the spring of 2186; on the other hand, Traynor’s current whereabouts was a mystery.  He had totally lost contact with her after she’d been transferred from Arcturus Station to an R &D facility on Earth … he could only hope she had not still been on the planet when the Reapers appeared.

He had fought and destroyed Reaper spawn in a number of cities in North America, but the final battles in London were among the ugliest, most expensive—in terms of human lives lost—actions he’d ever been involved in.  His injuries had been acquired before the fleets arrived with the Crucible; he had a dim, hard to recall memory of the green wave that washed over everything when Shepard activated it, losing her own life in the process.  

Standing in the middle of his sitting room, he placed his hands on his hips and slowly turned, visually inspecting his surroundings while mentally calculating what had been here prior to his move-in the beginning of September.  _Hardly been in here long enough for the dust to settle,_ he thought.  Seeing nothing that belonged to him remaining in the room, he sighed as he picked up his travel packs, turned and left the apartment.

He had been granted sixty days of terminal leave before his resignation became final, enough time to get established as a civilian.  He had decided to leave London … the best place to find the sort of job that suited him was in Council controlled space.  The Citadel—relocated from Earth orbit to the Widow System, and still being repaired by Reapers and the onboard population of Keepers—was the hub for a large number of commercial freight haulers, and he wanted to land a job on one as either a cargo master or cargo handler, a line of work with which he was familiar.

Shortly after arriving on the vast space station, he took a short-term lease on a tiny apartment in Alpha Ward; he needed to be within walking distance of the many freight docks on the station.  Additionally, there were a number of small bars and cafés near these docks, though the smaller ships in which Griff was interested were not as well-served by such places.

Buchanan knew the larger ships were all owned by syndicates or corporations, so wasn’t interested in working on any of them; on the other hand, small-to-medium capacity freighters were generally operations consisting of less than five vessels owned by just one or two people.

As their owners normally filled the role of captain for their own vessels and they generally paid their crews by the trip, these vessels had a lot of employee turnover; with razor-thin profit margins, every credit saved by paying crew members miserly wages meant some extra rations or fuel could be bought for the next trip.  Transporting cargo paid best when a large amount could be moved all at once by just one vessel.  Split among several ships, the same amount of freight had to buy more fuel and pay more people to transport it.  It went without saying that owners of smaller ships had to walk a fine line on wage parity in order to retain skilled laborers.

Once Buchanan discovered a small café close to the docks and his apartment, he began frequenting the place.  Sitting at a table with a good view of the docks, he used a datapad to run a comparison program on the various ships that regularly docked to discharge cargo, then load up for delivery elsewhere.  In only a matter of days he had narrowed the choices down to three vessels, all salarian-owned.  Upon completing a bit more research, he approached Valon Hurix, the owner and captain of the _MSV Seeker’s Sunrise,_ immediately after it made port during the last week of October 2187.

Griff was in luck … after checking his background to confirm he was former Alliance, Hurix hired him on the spot to assist the other human on board; Griff would be working in the refrigerated section of the cargo hold, monitoring and adjusting temperatures in the several areas set aside for either frozen foodstuffs or shipments that simply needed to be kept at a consistently cold temperature.

The other cargo-master, also former Alliance, was Curtis Mellor, a quiet man in his early seventies; as the two men were assigned alternating work-shifts, Buchanan only saw Mellor during shift-change, when they would get together to go over their daily reports and equipment cry-lists.  The work itself wasn’t difficult, but it did require skill at organizing the loads, since each load was generally destined for several recipients.  All things considered, Griff felt that leaving the Alliance for work in the private sector was going to be a positive experience.

* * *

 **♦ Mid-December 2187 · Eight Months Post** - **War ♦**

In just six short weeks, Buchanan had settled into a comfortable routine aboard the salarian-owned freighter _MSV Seeker’s Sunrise_ ; Captain – and ship’s owner – Valon Hurix had an easy, dedicated week-long run from the Citadel to Annos Basin; from there, the ship next entered the Exodus Cluster, then returned to the Citadel.

Because the weekly round-trip was so repetitive, Griff had developed an increasingly uneasy feeling that the predictability of the _Seeker’s Sunrise’s_ trips out and back had made the ship an attractive target for mercenaries.

The only person questioning Griff’s motives for having all his gear safely stowed in his heavy travel bags, rather than in the lockers and bunk-side cabinets provided for his use, was cargo-master Curtis Mellor, who soon decided that emulating Buchanan’s precautions and enduring a small amount of daily inconvenience was preferable to losing his pitiful few possessions in the unlikely event of being forced to evacuate the ship with little to no warning.

Griff’s sense of uneasiness concerning a merc attack turned out to be erroneous, but his gut feeling that _something_ was going to happen actually proved to be accurate during his shift the evening of the 20th, just prior to their return trip to the Citadel from the Exodus Cluster.  As they were approaching the Utopia relay, the pilot activated the ship’s PA to report a delay, saying the relay was aligned to receive traffic from another system.  Acting totally on instinct, Buchanan ran to his quarters, woke Mellor, grabbed his travel bags and trotted to the closest escape pod, there to wait beside its open entrance hatch.

Curtis, grumpy at being dragged from his rack for no apparent reason, walked up to Griff and plopped his bags down on the deck.  Using his own nickname for Griff, he asked, “What the hell are ya doing, Buck?  Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Buchanan frowned at the man, replying, “No joke, Curt.  Something bad is about to happen.”  His gaze steady, he continued, “If I am wrong … if I interrupted your sleep for no good reason … I will stand the first half of your next shift.”

Curtis only had time to nod in acceptance of Griff’s offer when they were both jolted by a violent shudder through the deck, coinciding with a low-pitched rumble from the stern; this was immediately followed by the trilling sound of the collision alarm accompanied by the slamming of every internal hatch in the habitat area of the ship.  The alarm was silenced long enough for Captain Hurix to make an announcement.  “Catastrophic core breach in engineering … drive core failure eminent.  All personnel, abandon ship!  Get to the escape pods!  Abandon ship!”

“He does not need to tell me twice!  Come on … we need to get clear!”  Griff grabbed his bags and pushed them and his bulky frame into the escape pod, followed by Mellor.  Closing the hatch from inside the pod initiated a fifteen-second countdown, enabling the two men to stow their gear, get seated and pull the restraint bars down; as the bars latched, the pod was ejected from the ship.

The onboard computer rotated the pod on its axis and fired the maneuvering thrusters to slow their flight away from the ship.  Buchanan was able to catch a glimpse of the stricken freighter through the viewports as the pod rotated around; from this vantage point, the thruster packs on the freighter appeared undamaged.

There were several escape pods in their immediate vicinity; the computer in each pod caused all of them to maneuver towards each other.  Auto-survival protocols in the programming would bring all the pods within a few meters of each other, creating a larger target for a rescue ship’s detection equipment.

Buchanan had started to doubt himself and the ship’s captain when the _Seeker’s Sunrise_ unexpectedly exploded, the fireball erupting from the drive section as the suddenly liberated, white-hot core of eezo mixed with the rapidly expanding helium-3 from the ruptured tanks.  The shockwave jostled the escape pods, but all were far enough from the detonation to avoid damage.  Curtis inspected the auto-distress transmitter to confirm it was working; in theory, each of the seven escape pods should be transmitting a homing signal.  With any luck, all would be retrieved and their passengers rescued, most likely by an Alliance team dispatched from Eden Prime, within the next twenty to thirty hours.  Upon contacting the people in the other pods, Buchanan was happy to learn the entire crew had managed to escape the _Seeker’s Sunrise_.  As there was nothing more to be done, Griff and Curtis each sat back to relax and wait to be rescued.

Rather than having to wait for twenty … or even thirty hours, the escape pods from the _MSV Seeker’s Sunrise_ were not retrieved until nearly forty hours had passed.  By this time, the pod in which Griff and Curtis had survived the freighter’s destruction was on reserve power; Griff had reduced the lighting and heat levels to their minimum settings, preferring to keep the atmosphere scrubbers adequately powered.  They had resorted to rationing their drinking water when it became apparent their recovery would not be as immediate as they had believed.

When their pod _was_ finally retrieved—along with the others—Griffen had mixed emotions.  While glad to be out of the escape pod, he was _more_ than a little troubled to find himself on a Blue Suns corvette—the _Golden Nova—_ the captain was a turian, with the crew a mix of batarians and humans, none of whom appeared to be overly friendly.  As for Griff, he and Curtis were happy they’d taken their travel bags with them, until Captain Hurix questioned why they were the only two members of the crew to have been so well prepared for a catastrophe.

Hurix was fortunate to have made his veiled accusations in the corvette’s small mess hall; there were nearly a dozen other people nearby—rescued and rescuers alike—close enough to save the salarian from having his neck broken if Griff had chosen to reach out and grab him.  As that thought crossed his mind, his thoughts tumbled back to Specialist Samantha Traynor.  _She would have killed him where he stood and taken on the rest of the bastards in this compartment without a second thought.  Wish she was with us right now._  As all the salarian had was an unfounded suspicion, there was nothing more he could say or do without incurring a libel accusation from the two humans; he couldn’t even refuse to pay them the salaries they were owed.

With the _Seeker’s Sunrise_ completely destroyed by the core breach and her jettisoned cargo pods salvaged by the Blue Suns, Hurix had no way to prove the explosion was anything more than an unfortunate accident.  The salarian prevailed on the _Golden_ _Nova’s_ captain to transport them to the Citadel, promising a payment – less the salvage value of the escape pods and cargo the Blue Suns had retrieved – once he received a settlement from insurance.  The turian acquiesced, as rescue and salvage laws in space had to be obeyed – it wouldn’t be wise for anyone, even the Blue Suns, to run afoul of accepted standards of conduct in space, lest they find themselves in a similar situation at some point in the future.

* * *

 **♦ ALPHA WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦  
◦ January 2188 · Nine Months Post**- **War ◦**

Griffen Buchanan’s terminal leave from the Alliance had ended in December; as the explosion that destroyed _Seeker’s Sunrise_ had also taken his livelihood, he was forced to return to the tiny apartment near the freight docks.  Buchanan still had a modest savings account, which he had managed to maintain since his departure from the Alliance, but he was now back to square one, in that he once again found himself looking for employment as a freight handler or cargo master.  He had purposely not asked for a recommendation from his former captain, as the salarian harbored a completely unfounded suspicion that either he or Curtis Mellor, the other cargo master on board and _also_ a human, had somehow engineered the ship’s destruction.

Fortunately, Griff was able to find a berth on the third ship he contacted; the _MSV Celestial Viper_ was in need of an experienced assistant cargo master to work with Surnal Gaemnor, the salarian cargo master in charge.  Griff wasn’t a xenophobe by any stretch of the imagination—he’d even worked with batarians on occasion—but he wasn’t really thrilled to be working on another salarian-owned and captained freight hauler; worse, it seemed the universe was punishing him by forcing him to answer to the human-hating salarian in charge of the ship’s cargo hold.  He could have refused the job offer, but the pay was fair and the _Celestial Viper_ had an exemplary safety record.  Griff felt he could endure working on the ship long enough to increase his savings back to a comfortable level, particularly once his medical disability pension from the Alliance kicked in at the end of the month.  After a few months, he could leave and find another job, hopefully a more agreeable one, with fewer aliens running the show.

* * *

 **♦ OMEGA STATION · SAHRABARIK SYSTEM, OMEGA NEBULA ♦  
◦ April 2188 · One Year Post**- **War ◦**

Buchanan, nursing a large, icy-cold mug of batarian ale, was sitting in a dark, dingy bar located seemingly in the bowels of Omega Station.  The turian barmaid had assured the human that the ale was uncut; he had been forced to take her at her word, as the ambient light was so dim he couldn’t accurately discern the liquid’s color.  It _was_ rather bitter in taste, but Buchanan didn’t drink often enough to know if what he was tasting was thin or not; he _did_ know the ale had a fair percentage of alcohol, if the immediacy of his headache after downing the first mug was any indication.  He had decided to savor this second one; he didn’t wish to discover how poorly a drunken, unconscious human was treated down here.

He was on a one-day layover, as the _Celestial Viper_ was waiting for a freighter to arrive from the Shrike Abyssal.  He could have returned to his bunk on the ship, but decided he’d seen more than enough of the damned thing in the seven or so weeks he’d been on board; sitting in the twilight darkness of this bar, sipping from a mug of bitter ale, suited him for the moment.

He had studied the freighter’s scheduled itinerary, noting they would next be calling on the port of Milgrom, the nearly destroyed capitol of the human colony on Bekenstein.  Studying the manifest of cargo coming from Bovis Tor revealed the majority of the payload was going to be palladium and iridium, raw materials that would either be refined in orbit or on the surface, then utilized in the manufacture of high-end, finished goods in the rebuilt factories on the planet.

The other palladium-rich planet in the Urla Rast system had the misfortune of attracting a disproportionate amount of attention from the Reapers during the latter stages of their invasion; despite massive reconstruction efforts by the now peaceful machines, the volus population—estimated at 3.8 billion people before the invasion—had yet to recover their former numbers.  Their capitol city of Usra Dao had been leveled by orbital bombardment; the ruined city still entombed countless volus.  Reconstruction work in the ammonia-rich atmosphere could only be undertaken by the volus; anyone else working on the surface needed to wear a sealed environmental suit, something that made working on the heavy-gravity world extremely tiresome.  Even with the capable assistance provided by numerous Reapers, it was a slow process.

The _Viper_ would also be receiving a load of platinum—ten containers of a metric tonne each—from the dwarf planet Rosh.  Griff had already cleared one corner of the cargo hold in anticipation of receiving these containers.  They would be loaded first in order to provide a bit of protection from casual theft; the containers of palladium and iridium would have to be unloaded before the more expensive containers of platinum could be reached.

As Buchanan took another swallow from his mug, his thoughts drifted back to his time in the Alliance Special Ops group, especially his time with Samantha Traynor and Yuán Xiùlán.  He really missed those women, Sammy in particular—not that their relationship had ever been anything but that of a brother and sister; even without being told, Griff knew that Sammy and Xiùlán were lovers, and respected both of them enough to not question their life choices.  Ever since then he had never had dealings with batarians that didn’t bring back intense memories of Traynor and her rather … unique … methods of dealing with the pirates that infested Cartagena Station.  Sadly, he didn’t expect he’d see her or Yuán ever again.

Heaving a heavy sigh, he downed the rest of his beer in one go, grimacing at the bitter flavor that had only grown more intense as the liquid gradually warmed during the time he had spent staring into its depths.  He got to his feet, wincing at the bit of pain that shot down the back of his left leg.  His doctors had repaired his broken vertebra to the best of their abilities, but there was still a bit of damage to the nerves going to his thigh muscles—something he’d have to live with, or so he’d been told.

He left the bar and strolled back to the freight docks, there to reenter the _Viper_ and head for bed.  He wasn’t looking forward to the headache he’d no doubt be nursing by the time he woke up.

* * *

**♦ MSV CELESTIAL VIPER, DOCKED AT OMEGA STATION ♦  
◦ June/July 2188 ◦**

Griffen Buchanan awakened rather slowly to the uncomfortably loud—to his ears, anyway—trilling of his omnitool.  After sleepily managing to make the noise stop on the third attempt, he discovered it was announcing an urgent message from the ship’s executive officer, U’mal Votol; the salarian needed to see Griff as soon as possible to discuss a rather pressing issue.

As he had mentally predicted to himself the previous evening, he was suffering from an alcohol-induced headache, although it wasn’t as severe as he’d expected—probably because he had purposely limited his drinking.  After relieving himself, he winced at the image looking back at him in the bathroom mirror; he splashed warm water in his face and dampened his hair, then scrubbed his face dry with a small towel.  The reflection staring out of the mirror looked a bit fresher than before … certainly better than he actually felt.  Brushing his teeth and rinsing his mouth helped lessen the taste of stale beer; feeling somewhat better, he donned clothes and left his sleeping compartment to go find the ship’s XO.

“Enter!”  The nasally voice of U’mal Votol sounded about as Buchanan expected … impatient.  _Nothing new concerning salarians,_ he thought as he swept his hand through the haptic interface to open the hatch.  Presenting an appearance of moving swiftly was really no problem for Griff—his long legs rapidly ate up distance, even when he was simply strolling.  He was standing in front of Votol’s desk before the salarian could raise his eyes.  Waving Griff to a nearby chair, he said, “Please sit, human.”

Votol continued speaking at a rapid-fire pace as Griff took a seat in the chair.  “As you are no doubt aware, Surnal Gaemnor is… or rather, was… no fan of humans.  I am not blind, nor am I ignorant of what transpires on this ship, Buchanan; I am aware Gaemnor made you perform every miserable, dirty or difficult job he didn’t wish to do himself.”  He paused, waiting for a moment to see if Griff would respond; when he remained silent, Votol continued, “Late last night, Gaemnor actually allowed his low opinion of humans to take control of his mouth.  This was no doubt a direct result of the amount of Kalinan’s Best he had imbibed, if the unpaid bar tab is any indication.  His unkind words about your kind was repaid by a couple of mercs inside a lower-level nightclub… the Med-techs that attempted to resuscitate him reported he suffered a crushed heart and broken neck.  They also said he probably never felt a thing.  Um, too bad, that.”  The salarian looked down as he shook his head slightly and added mirthlessly, “Needless to say, he will not be returning to his former position on this ship.”

Griff had the good sense to refrain from laughing as he thought, _Who would have thought Votol possessed a sense of humor?_   Asking “What does that mean for me, then?  Do I still have a job?”  He waited to see what this salarian would do after the violent death of another of his kind at the hands of some insulted humans. 

The salarian was impossible to read as his eyelids slowly swept up across large, golden-flecked eyes.  Looking straight at Griff, he said, “You are now the Chief Cargo Master on this ship, Mister Buchanan.  I will be looking to hire an assistant for you, but in the meantime, your monthly compensation will be increased to the amount previously being paid to Surnal Gaemnor.”  After a brief pause, he added, “You are no doubt aware a freighter arriving from the Shrike Abyssal will be unloading cargo for us.  They are due to dock in just under three hours.”

Sensing a dismissal in Votol’s tone, Griff expressed his thanks, stood from his chair and left.  Feeling a bit lighter in spirit at his apparent good fortune, he went down to the small mess hall to have some coffee and breakfast before he needed to oversee the cargo transfer from the volus system.  He expected it would be a very long day.

* * *

**♦ MSV CELESTIAL VIPER · FREIGHT DOCKS, MILGROM, BEKENSTEIN ♦  
◦ August 2188 ◦**

Captain Max Silva had nearly changed his plans and docked and unloaded the _Viper_ at the orbital ‘goods-in-transit’ facilities near the gigantic freight forwarding structure in a geo-synched orbit above Milgrom.  For Silva, emptying the ship’s cargo hold in orbit would have saved fuel for the necessary landing near the import/export warehouses on the outskirts of the city.  Over time, two of the port side maneuvering thruster packs on the ship’s bow had become increasingly erratic when activated – their uneven firing had nearly caused a collision on close approach to a much smaller transfer vessel over Eden Prime; Silva was not going to wait for an expensive, possibly fatal accident to get the thrusters repaired, so had decided to have the work done on Bekenstein.

In the end, he had stayed with his original plan of grounding the _Viper_ near the warehouses to unload his cargo; after the raw palladium, iridium and platinum was unloaded, extraction and refining of the ore would be completed at one of several nearby facilities.  From there, the refined materials would be transferred to a number of nearby manufactories in the city.

As soon as the cargo hold was empty, Silva relocated the vessel to the nearby shipyard for repairs to the bow thrusters.  While the ship was being serviced, Buchanan used the opportunity afforded by the unscheduled downtime to visit a human-run bank located a few klicks from the shipyard.  Here, he opened an account and established the auto-deposit protocol that would enable his work-related compensation to be electronically transferred from the _Celestial Viper’s_ operating budget once each month.

After enjoying an early dinner at a nearby café, Griff returned to the shipyard in time to board for the short hop to the import/export docks, where he began his preparations for loading the outbound cargo the _Viper_ would be delivering to the Citadel.

This trip would be different for Griff, as the entire job of organizing the freight in the massive hold was his responsibility alone, and he couldn’t simply stuff the containers and crates in the cargo bay without some degree of organization.  The manifest listed cargo from nearly a dozen manufacturers, each of which had a number of customers on the Citadel.  Griff needed to load everything with an eye towards an organized _unloading_ at the other end, so needed to know exactly where every last item was placed in the hold and group each shipping container with others that would be going to the same customer; this would enable the cargo to be unloaded and stacked in an orderly fashion.

Invariably during the process of loading the cargo, another pallet or container would arrive later than promised; this sometimes necessitated the removal and relocation of a few containers already on the ship in order to ensure everything destined for each customer on the Citadel was grouped together.  By the time every last container and pallet had come aboard, Buchanan had a graphic representation of the _Viper’s_ cargo on a datapad.  He was as ready as he could be for the ship to leave Milgrom in order to travel to their next port of call … the Citadel.

* * *

**♦ COMMERCIAL FREIGHT DOCKS, ALPHA WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

By the time the _Celestial Viper_ had docked at the Citadel, Buchanan was beyond ready for the trip to be over and done; upon its arrival in the Widow System, the ship—along with a dozen or so other freight haulers—had been directed to _park_ in a holding queue near the relay.  What began as a short arrival delay soon morphed into a several-hour-long postponement before the ship was permitted to dock.  For a few crew members on board, such as the pilot, navigator and engineers, their work on this trip _was_ complete; for Griff and the rest, the real work was just beginning.

Griff had totally expected the salarian cargo master’s death on Omega to increase his own workload; seeing as he had been doing the majority of the work under the human-hating Gaemnor anyway, he was happy to discover he was able to get all of his own chores—along with the salarian’s—completed with a lot less effort, as he no longer had to redo some of his _own_ jobs just to please Gaemnor.

Walking down the broad ramp deployed from the freighter’s main cargo hold, Buchanan idly gazed around the docks before crouching at the end in order to inspect the heavy cables—two on each side—between the ramp and anchor rings rising from the metal surface of the dock.  He had just turned to go back into the cargo hold when I said it; his nickname, whispered in a voice that may have seemed familiar … but was most definitely out of place, here on a bustling cargo platform, as we had not spoken since before the war.  “Griff.”

After pausing briefly to turn around and look at the dock once more, he resumed walking up the ramp; if I hadn’t stepped aside, his collision with me might have knocked me down.  The expression on his face when he saw me told me all I needed to know; he had thought to never see or hear from me again.  “Samantha?  Samantha Traynor!”

Wrapping his arms around me, he effortlessly lifted me off my feet, hugging me tightly – a bit _too_ tightly – as he happily gushed, “My God, where did you come from?  You haven’t changed a bit!”  He kissed me on both cheeks before setting me back down on the metal surface beneath us; obviously thrilled to find me alive and apparently well after so much time, he continued with, “I did not think I would _ever_ see you again, Sammy!  What the hell have you been doing since the war ended?” Buchanan’s joy at seeing me—his former sister-in-arms—quickly turned to worried concern as I leaned over, placed my hands on my knees and took a couple of shuddering, deep breaths of air.

He waited as I slowly straightened to stand erect; in a slightly wheezy voice, I exclaimed, “Damn, Griff!  Never knew you to try’n crush the life out of a friend … but it’s bloody good to see you as well!”  Buchanan reached a hand out to assist me, which I gratefully grasped with both of mine, even as I painfully gasped, “Not to worry, big guy.  Got caught in an explosion in Delta; still recovering from a case of blast lung, among a number of other injuries.”

After taking a couple more deep breaths of air, I peered up at him and added, “Doctors released me to light duty, right before I resigned from the Alliance.”  Still holding onto Buchanan’s hand, I finally managed to breathe normally and got to the reason I had come to see him.  “Can you leave for a while, have a late lunch … or an early dinner with me?”  At his look of hesitation, I released his hand and added, “My treat, Griff.  I really need to speak with you.”

Something in the way I phrased the question must have set off mental alarms.  Back in the day, he would have willingly died to keep me safe … to enable me to complete a mission.  Now, despite loving me more than his own sister, after a galaxy-wide conflagration, his hesitation told me he needed a bit more information before saying yes.  Crossing his arms across his massive chest, he replied softly, “Not right away, Sammy … I have to oversee the freight transfer off the _Viper_ …  I will have a bit of time afterwards … before we begin loading cargo for the next port.”  Fixing me with a steady gaze, he asked, “What is this all about, Sammy?  Are you in some sort of trouble?”

“No trouble, Griff.  I just need to talk to you … and it has nothing to do with the Alliance military.  I’m done with ‘em, Griff … for the first time in ten years, I’m a private citizen.”

Buchanan broke into a grin for a moment, only to have the suspicious frown from before return.  “Aw hell, Traynor … you finally let General Park get under your skin … got yourself court-martialed and discharged … am I correct?”

I could actually feel my face going dark with irritation, and replied in as snarky a voice as I could manage with my still recovering lungs.  “That hurts me, Griff … that _really_ fucking hurts!”

Buchanan’s grin returned slightly as he raised his hands, palms facing me.  “Okay, okay … I apologize.”  Glancing at some dockworkers approaching the ship, he said, “Now, I really need to get our cargo unloaded.  Outbound freight begins loading around 0710 tomorrow, so I will have time to sit and chat with you this evening.  Will that be okay?”

“Works for me, big guy.”  Activating my omnitool, I forwarded the restaurant’s name and location to his tool.  “Meet me here.”  I nodded, turned and walked down the ramp; once on the docking area’s paved surface, I turned and set off at a brisk pace for my speeder.

I could literally feel Griff’s eyes on my back— _probably watching my ass—_ as I walked back down the ramp.  I knew he would be thinking about what little I had told him.  _Just enough to pique his interest,_  I wondered?  After all the months without hearing anything about him or from him, to find Buchanan alive and working was like a balm on my soul.  I was relieved to discover he was relatively healthy, but I would need to find out what he’d been doing since the end of the war … particularly why he was no longer in the Navy.  I glanced back once to watch for a moment, as he began directing the unloading of freight.  I was really looking forward to meeting him later.

* * *

 


	3. Reconnecting With The Past

_“It's been a long time,” I reply, when what I really want to do is ask her what she's been doing for the past fifteen years.  If she still drinks tea with milk and lemon.  If she's happy._  — Jodi Picoult, _My Sister’s Keeper_

* * *

 ** _Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _Erin_ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _Iringù-Eßizkur_

* * *

**♦ SMOKE HOUSE CAFÉ, DELTA WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

It had been nearly four hours since I had visited—well, ambushed, actually—Griffen Buchanan at the commercial freight yards in Alpha Ward, where the _Celestial Viper_ had docked to offload her cargo of high-end manufactured goods from Bekenstein; Griff had agreed to meet me after his current duties on the freighter were done for the day.  He told me he had to supervise the orderly unloading of the many pallets and containers within the _Viper;_ as soon as the cargo hold was empty, he was going to shower and change before coming to meet me at this little eatery on ‘restaurant row’, outside the Alliance secured and controlled docks in Delta Ward.    

I saw him as soon as he stepped inside, pausing just inside the door to look around for a moment until he spotted me.  I was sitting at a small table near the back, totally lost in my thoughts as I sipped tea from a mug around which I had wrapped both my hands.  The expression on his face as he looked at me, in this place, told me he probably remembered us sharing breakfast here once before … before the Reapers … before Sovereign.  I watched him pause to speak with the young woman at the front counter … maybe to order a cup of coffee.  Slowly strolling up to my table, he smiled as he leaned over slightly, saying, “Seems to me we have eaten in this place once before, Sammy.  It has been a long day … mind if I take a load off?”

I momentarily grimaced at his observation.  Any time our mission to that batarian-run shit hole in the Nemean Abyss was mentioned always brought back intensely distressing memories of Xiùlán—writhing in agony on the cold metal deck—after a batarian pirate had shattered her left thighbone with a point-blank shot from a heavy pistol.  Attempting to smile in spite of the painful memory, I responded in what I hoped was a cheerful voice.  “Buchanan!  I’m really happy you chose to join me! …”  Motioning across the table with my hand, I finished with, “By all means, pull up a chair, have a seat.”  After I took another sip of what Griff now knew to be freshly brewed tea, I added in a subdued tone, “You have an excellent memory.  We ate breakfast here while we were planning our mission to Cartagena Station.” 

My suddenly cloudy expression gave way to another forced smile as Griff reached across the table to envelope my forearm with a huge … and surprisingly gentle hand.  “I could be the most absent-minded man in the damned galaxy and I would remember _that_ place, Sammy.  It was a life-altering experience for me … we went through the gates of hell there, and actually managed to come out the other side with our asses intact … well, mostly intact … except for Xiùlán.”

His somber expression changed to one of surprise as he gave my arm a gentle squeeze, no doubt because he felt the hard edges of the composite-ceramic plate strapped to my forearm under the leather duster I wore whenever I was out and about. “It was only thanks to _your_ efforts that we managed to get clear of that stinking hellhole.  What about Xiùlán, by the way?  Last I heard, she had been transferred from the _Tokyo_ to the _Hong Kong II_ , right before the invasion.  How is she doing these days?”

Thinking about the beautiful … and deadly … third member of our team from back in the day, I placed my other hand on top of Buchanan’s before replying with a genuine smile … and more than a hint of pride.  “She made captain first of the year, Griff … promoted and placed in command of the _Hong Kong_ , all in the same day.  I spent the evening with her last night, actually.  Oh, and she still has a few scars on her left leg as souvenirs.”  Looking straight into his greenish-gray eyes, I used an especially snarky tone to comment, “I’ll bet _you_ still have a few scars from that trip as well.”

A touch of red instantly colored his ears before touching his cheeks.  “Yeah, let’s not go there, alright?” he replied.  “That is all in the past … best to leave it buried there.”  We both looked up as the young waitress appeared with the cup of coffee he had ordered when he came in; of some surprise, she had also brought a fresh pot of tea; he nodded to indicate he had ordered it when he came in the door.  After giving my arm another gentle squeeze, he retrieved his hand in order to pick up his own steaming mug to take a sip.  Sighing in obvious pleasure, he commented, “When one is a crew member on a ship for any length of time, it is easy to get used to the bad coffee … to the point one no longer takes any notice of just how awful it tastes.”  Taking another sip, he concluded, “This … is good coffee.”  After a few more moments of silence, he asked, “So, are you going to explain why you needed to speak with me, or wait until after we eat?”

Finishing my cup of tea, I responded in a low voice.  “I can tell you while we eat … some of it, anyway.  If it’s okay by you, there’s a lot more that needs to be said … things I cannot discuss here in public, including the favor I need to ask of you … for that, I’ll need to speak with you in private.”  I caught the attention of the waitress, then nodded at Griff as the petite woman walked up to stand beside the table.  “I’m told the roast beef and potatoes here are really good … all the ingredients are brought in fresh from Eden Prime, or so they say.”

Griff nodded as he placed his order; I had placed my own order when I came in earlier, and had waited on him to arrive so we could have our meals together.  When we were once again alone, Griff looked at me with one eyebrow raised, obviously curious about why I was being so mysterious.  “Okay, Sammy.  Talk to me … what is so damned important that you would ambush me on the docks?  For that matter, how in hell did you even find me?  I’ve not exactly been advertising my existence since I left the Alliance.”

“Well, since neither of us is in the Alliance anymore, let’s talk about you first,” I said with a reassuring smile.  “Why in ’ell did _you_ leave?”

Buchanan’s lips formed a tight, straight line for several moments before he began to speak.  “Reaper War, obviously.  I was injured … severely—damn near killed, actually—during the final battle in London.  Got tossed aside like yesterday’s trash.  Entire unit was obliterated by Reaper spawn; I have been told I am lucky to have survived.  Had a concussion, several broken ribs, punctured lung, bruised liver, three vertebrae fractured, right side of my pelvis broken.”  After taking another swallow of coffee, he gazed into his mug in silence, long enough for me to prompt him by nudging his hand.

Griff looked up.  Fixing a solemn gaze on my eyes, he appeared to be expecting a look of pity, something I knew he would absolutely hate; all I had for him was sympathy … for the pain he had suffered, both physically and emotionally.  Heaving a heavy sigh, he continued, “They could not put me back together like I was previously, Sammy.  Missions we were assigned before the war would be out of the question for me now.  I can no longer be a ground-pounder, you know?  But I quickly discovered that sitting behind a desk every day, doing clerical work that seemed not to make any damned difference to anyone bored me nearly to tears.  So after less than eight weeks of that particular kind of light duty, I opted to take the medical discharge they had offered.”

“Damn!  I’m really sorry, Griff … that’s tough.  I wonder if …”  Without completing the thought concerning asari medical abilities, I asked, “Wasn’t there anything else you could do … some other assignment that required a bit more thought?”  The chuckle I received answered my question perfectly, so I prompted him to tell me what he’d done after his discharge.

“Got a job as assistant cargo-master on a small freighter … _MSV Seeker’s Sunrise;_ first-shift cargo-master was an older guy … former Alliance also, name of Curtis Mellor.”  Griff shook his head slightly as he went on to explain why he was no longer on that ship.  “Son-of-a-bitch suffered a core breech … exploded near the Utopia relay.  No casualties, and obviously we were rescued, if that’s the correct word for it, by the Blue Suns.”  With a short bark of laughter, he added, “Salarian owner all but accused Curt and me of sabotaging the damned engines.  If I had grabbed him by his throat like I wanted, I would have needed to take on the rest of the damned crew.”  He chuckled again, saying, “I really wish you had been there with me, Sammy … you could have handed their asses to all of them without breaking a sweat.”

I smiled at his unwavering confidence in my abilities.  “Glad you think so highly of me, Buchanan.”  My smile became a short chuckle before I added, “After surviving a close-quarters explosion—in the Blue Suns’ Delta Ward headquarters, no less—I’m _still_ working my way back to a hundred percent.  You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I lost considerable muscle mass while I was in hospital.”

Before Griff could respond, our meals arrived; I began to eat as Griff explained to me—between bites of his roast beef and mashed potatoes—about the convoluted path he had taken to get to his current position on the _Celestial Viper._  “That is about all there is to know about me, Sammy.  Pretty unremarkable, actually.  Your turn now … just why _did_ you leave the Alliance?”

We had finished our dinners and were enjoying our beverages—tea for me and coffee for Griff—as I finished speaking about my resignation, listing my numerous reasons for resigning from the Navy.   When Griff didn’t comment, I took another sip from my cup before leaning in to speak in a near whisper, prompting Buchanan to lean in close so he could understand me.  “I could really use your help, Griff.”

Griff’s response was apparently colored by his concern for my well-being.  “What the hell, Samantha?  You must realize that if it is within my power, I will do anything for you.  Just tell me what you need.”  

“Not here…” I frowned.  “As I said, the possibility that someone might be listening in is too great for me to chance it.  I need you to come with me, Griff … come to my apartment so we can speak privately.  I cannot afford for us to be overheard.”  I drained the last of the tea from my cup, stood from the table and said, “I’ll tell you everything … lay it all out for you, but I have to use caution.”  After I paid the bill for our meals and drinks, I stepped outside and looked around for a few moments before turning back to Buchanan.  Saying, “I think you’re going to like my new flat,” I hooked my arm into his and began walking to my speeder.

“Never known you to be so cautious, Sammy …”  The worry was plain on Griff’s face and in his tone of voice.  “This is a completely new side of you … something you’ve never shown before, and I am not really sure what to make of it.” 

Without commenting on Griff’s concern, I leaned my body into his arm and steered him along beside me as I aimed our path towards a non-descript speeder parked in the middle of a row of similar looking vehicles.  I activated my omnitool, unlocking and opening the canopy of the X3M that was now my personal transport on the Citadel.  “Come on … it’s a short ride over to Bravo Ward.”

* * *

**♦ SHADOW BROKER’S RESIDENCE · BRAVO WARD ♦**

Once we were inside the speeder and on our way, I set the navi-computer to travel the pre-programmed route back to my rooftop parking structure before leaning back in my seat and looking at Griff as I began to explain all the secrecy.  “I apologize for being so damned mysterious, Griff.  I know it seems totally out of character for me, but …”  I looked away for several moments, only returning my gaze to the man beside me upon hearing him softly clear his throat.

With a wry smile, I continued in a subdued voice.  “I have … just recently … gained exclusive access to what many in the galaxy consider to be the most powerful information gathering network ever developed.  It’s the main reason … among many … for my resignation from the Alliance.  My captain on the _Normandy_ … and Admiral Hackett … somehow believed I owed still more of my life to the Alliance, and that I should _volunteer_ for this goddamned job … to be at their beck and call, under _their_ fucking direction!  Can you imagine what the Alliance would do with all that power?”

After pausing briefly to gather my thoughts, I continued. “With the blessing of the previous occupant of the position, I’m taking over as the new Shadow Broker, Griff.”  Noticing his expression of shock and disbelief, I went on to explain how, after the war, all the Broker’s specialized equipment had been relocated from its previous location—which I did not reveal—and installed within a Destroyer-class Repository, providing a previously unattainable level of safety and security for the Broker’s main operating base.

Buchanan was absolutely speechless.  I could see that dozens of questions were whirling through his mind as he stared at me in utter disbelief.  “Damn, Sammy!  You _never_ did anything by halves in the past, and it seems you are _still_ plowing along at full throttle.”

A warning trill from the navi-computer interrupted us, forcing me to stop talking as I concentrated on flying our final approach.  Returning the speeder to manual control, I focused on bringing the X3M in for a precision landing inside a small parking structure on the roof of an unremarkable looking building in a mixed-use area of the Ward.  After securing the speeder, I climbed out to ensure the large access door was completely closed and latched, then walked back past the craft to lead Buchanan down the circular stairs from the parking structure.  Opening the door, I waved him in as I cheerily welcomed him to my new home.  “Here we are.”

Buchanan slowly walked into the main living area of what appeared to be a very large apartment.  I doffed my heavy cloak and laid it over a nearby chair as he slowly spun about in the middle of the room; he looked at me as I gently took his hand and pulled.  “Come on … you need to see the rest of it.”

After showing Griff the bedrooms, each with its own private bathroom, along with the kitchen and main living area, he nodded in approval.  “This is nice, Sammy … very nice indeed.  So nice, I really cannot imagine that rent for this place is cheap.”

Replying with a shy grin, I answered, “Rent free, Griff.  Bought and paid for by the previous Shadow Broker, as is the speeder we used.  And that elevator …” I said, pointing to the spacious car exposed by the open doors where a normal entry door would exist, “… is a private conveyance for the exclusive use of this apartment’s residents.  It’s always locked out from unauthorized ground floor access, whether I’m in here or not; the pass codes for the two Haptic interface lockouts reset automatically after each use … the algorithm is programmed into my omnitool.”

“I do not see any windows up here, Sammy.  What if the power goes out … or is deliberately cut?”

“Lack of windows up here makes the building look like any other warehouse from the ground.  Here … let me just …”  Triggering my omnitool, I made a couple of entries and pressed a control, resulting in the activation of the large, wall-mounted view screen with its display sectioned into ten zones.  “Of those ten sectors,” I explained, “six of them present different views of the neighborhood around this building … the other four are duplicate views, but with infrared imagery.

I expanded my explanation by adding, “The cameras are placed all ‘round, camouflaged by the overhang of the parapet.  I can choose the view from any camera …” here I made the lower left section zoom to take over most of the screen, “and take a closer look at what’s happening.”  Restoring the view to its previous configuration, I added, “The system passively monitors everything around here, and self-activates this monitor if anything out of the ordinary is detected … which should give me plenty of warning _before_ things head south.”

“What happens when someone … umm, you know … maybe cuts power to the building?”

“Well, first off, the power for the entire building is on a separate, isolated circuit which can only be accessed by going through a Keeper maintenance tunnel.”  I gestured toward a small hatch off to the side of the room but didn’t make any move to open it.  “In addition, there’s an independent power source; it has just enough capacity to power the emergency lighting and the speeder access door up on the roof.  It’s located inside that compartment, so can’t be cut at all unless whoever is after me has already made their way inside … which means something has gone terribly wrong and I am likely past the point of thinking about escape, so it would no longer matter.”

Nervously, I cupped my elbows in my palms as Buchanan looked around a bit more.  “This is all pretty amazing, but there is not much in the way of personal gear here, Sammy, and not many clothes hanging in your closet … though, I do see you actually own a dress!”  Smiling, he added, “It seems I need to revise my opinion of you, Traynor.  Hard to imagine you wearing girl clothes … but, I’ll just bet you look absolutely stunning in that dress.”  

“I’m really not sure … Xiùlán said I was a knockout, but she couldn’t wait to get me out of it when we got back here from dinner.”  Watching Griff’s ears redden and his cheeks flush, I thought, _Well shit, I did it again … made him blush twice in only a few hours’ time._  After a brief pause, I continued, “Who knows … I may even buy another dress or two, maybe a formal gown.  Haven’t worn anything revealing like that since …” I could feel the change in my heartrate as the memory of being completely naked while five of my female classmates held me down so the boyfriend of one of them could rape me caused me to lose my train of thought.  Feeling as if I was frozen in place, I stood there, eyes closed and my mouth partially open as the memory, every bit as raw and painful as the night it had happened, nearly overwhelmed my self-control.

I knew Griff had seen my eyes close and my face go pale when he softly asked, “Since what, Sammy?”

Shoving those awful recollections to the back of my mind, I forced myself to smile slightly as I finally found my voice and carefully said, “Well, since I was in college back on Earth.”

Cocking his head slightly, he changed the subject by asking, “So, all your fighting gear stored on the Reap… er, Repository?”

“Other than an emergency set-up in the X3M’s storage compartment … yeah.  Cap’n Cody let me keep my armor, since it’s a custom fit.  I kept my rifle, shotgun and heavy pistol.  I still have to acquire some more clothing, since I no longer have my Navy-issued SDU’s.”  

Buchanan’s imagination must have got away from him for a moment, as his face again turned a faint shade of pink; he cleared his throat and looked intently at me, saying, “I am not exactly sure what learning about the dresses you are going to buy has to do with my reason for being here… other than you seem to be avoiding getting to the real point…  So, let me be direct… why in hell are you telling me all this, Samantha?”

 _Dammit!  I’ve been dreading this moment!_  I met his eyes without hesitation and admitted, “Other than Xiùlán, you’re the only person I can trust to keep this secret, Griff … and I need your help.”

Buchanan’s doubts were all too plain in his expression; I gave him an uncertain smile, even as I continued to gaze at him intently.  I could only hope that my next few words would provoke a positive outcome … for both of us.  In a deadly serious tone, I huffed,  “No bullshit, Griff.  I don’t pretend to know exactly how everything will work out … this … being on my own?…”  I raised my hands over my head for a moment before crossing my arms under my chest.  “Taking over a huge information gathering network?  Right now, the one thing I _am_ sure of is that I desperately need … someone.  I need help rebuilding the network of agents, and it is absolutely vital I have someone with me that I can trust watching my six … a person I can trust with my life.”  He returned my steady gaze as he appeared to consider the implications of what I had just revealed.  _Now it comes down to it… he’s going to have to agree to enter a fuckin’ Reaper_.  “I want that person to be you, Griff.”

“You haven’t shown me the Reaper, Sammy.  Will we have to be working inside that thing?”

Hearing the hint of curiosity in his voice, I relaxed just a bit, responding with, “Repository, Griff.  They never really considered themselves to be Reapers … that’s just a term the Protheans used to refer to them 50,000 years ago.  Who knows what in ‘ell they were called before that.  Anyway, they consider themselves to be Repositories … and guardians.  Each of them carries all the knowledge of the civilizations they obliterated in the past … civilizations they _harvested_ , to use their term for what they were doing.”

“You speak of them as if … I don’t know.  It seems to me you actually admire them somehow.”

“I really haven’t thought about _how_ I feel about them, big guy.  I do know that Shepard’s choice of synthesis when she activated the Crucible … docked with the Catalyst … that is, the Citadel … radically changed their programming.  Shepard completely eliminated their imperative to indoctrinate organics, Griff, and it cost her nearly everything.”  Thinking about that green wave and the months spent getting back to civilization, I fell silent and looked at the floor with my hands clasped behind me.

I could tell Buchanan was watching the full range of emotions playing out across my face.  He sighed as he moved to stand right in front of me; placing a hand on my upper arm, he squeezed my triceps gently.  The warmth from his hand on my arm felt good … I hadn’t even realized I was cold.  Grasping my chin with his other hand, he gently tilted my head back so he could look into my eyes.  Even though I feared what I would see, I looked up at him, studying his intense grey-green eyes. “Okay, Sammy.  I will not promise anything … but where is this … Repository … docked?  I may as well have the entire tour … see what kind of frying pan you are asking me to jump into.”

My relief at his words left me in a gasp of air; I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath, waiting for him to reject the idea, to reject me.  I managed to grin up at him in a cheeky fashion and exclaim, “I think you’ll be impressed, Griff.  You and I have lived together in some pretty cramped quarters before … remember _Spirit’s Rage?”_

Griff chuckled at the memory of our shared time on the decidedly cramped, former turian corvette.  He broke into a big smile as he replied, “Trying to work around each other—sleeping one above the other in those tiny bunks—straddling the toilet in order to take a shower?”  With a grimace, he said, “I am still unable to find a bed aboard a ship that is big enough for me to comfortably sleep in.”  He released my arm, following as I turned and headed for the circular staircase.  After helping me slip back into my leather duster, we started up, his voice drifted up from below me.  “Would we have separate sleeping areas … and bathrooms?”

“No problem … there’s a lot more room inside Iringù-Eßizkur’s habitat area than there was in _Spirit’s Rage._   Two private bedrooms with baths—custom modified to suit and plenty of space for both of us to feel comfortable.”

Griff’s only response was, “Well … damn.  I guess that is _something_ in favor of this potential arrangement.”

* * *

**♦ BRAVO WARD, AT LARGE · CITADEL ♦**

There was scarcely enough time to pick up any speed before being forced to slow as I brought the X3M closer to my destination; I had signaled Iringù-Eßizkur to activate a homing beacon to prepare for our arrival.  As soon as the navi-computer in the speeder acquired the beacon’s signal, I released the controls and sat back in my seat, to Buchanan’s apparent dismay.  “Dammit Sammy, are you doing what I think? …”

I interrupted him by offering, “It’ll be fine, Griff.  You can relax.  Iringù-Eßizkur has just enough space available for this aircar, and her control of our approach is far more accurate than I could ever achieve.”

Buchanan shook his head slightly in disbelief as he watched the split-rear underside of the Destroyer draw steadily closer.  He looked as if he was going to totally lose it when he saw an entry that appeared no larger than nine meters long by six wide—a space he obviously considered a rather paltry-sized opening.  “That really does not seem like a large enough space, Sammy—this damn thing is a good eight meters long…”

“Seven and a half, actually.  And you’ve probably noticed that the canopy has been modified to slide forward rather than tilt up … we can simply climb out once we’re inside … be patient, Griff.”

When the speeder’s forward motion transitioned to an angular climb between the Repository’s main body above and the ground locomotion engine to which all four legs were attached, several low-intensity lights came on to illuminate our parking area.  As we cleared the lower edge of the opening, a pair of panels rapidly swung closed beneath us; the computer cut the power and the X3M settled onto the now tightly-closed and latched door panels beneath it.  I toggled the canopy open and stepped out, motioning for Griff to follow me.  “I kinda wish there was enough room to dock our old UT-47, but Irin’s eezo core and the circuitry for her prime weapon take a helluva lot of space.  She actually surprised me with the ability to safely store a speeder.”

A round hatch irised open with a metallic hiss at the forward end of the compartment, prompting me to encourage the reluctant man along.  “Come on … I think you’ll like her, Griff.”

Buchanan muttered, “I really wish you would quit referring to this thing as a ‘she’.”

 **›** _What other pronoun would you have Samantha use to refer to me, Buchanan-Griffen?_ **‹**   The voice was distinctly feminine … I couldn’t be sure how Griff was perceiving it, but I could definitely hear a sultry tone in Iringù-Eßizkur’s voice; it had the same tone as what I heard in Xiùlán’s voice whenever we were alone together.

I looked at Griff and smirked as I led him up to the outer compartment while saying, “Pay Griff no mind, Irin.  I don’t think he’s ever been _near_ a Repository, let alone inside one.”

“Oh, I have been a lot closer to the goddamned things than I ever wanted to be … the Mako they blew up is how I got so badly injured at the end of the war.”  As the entrance hatch to the habitat and broker compartment sections irised open, the sounds of music—incredibly ancient in origin—resumed playing at a low volume.  “My God, Traynor …  What in hell is that?  I have never heard anything like it!”

I turned to look at Griff as I attempted to explain.  “Not surprising.  The majority of the civilization harvested by this Repository was gender female; they were an educated and cultured people, with enough leisure time to create …” I raised my hands over my head to indicate the sounds coming from the hidden speakers, “… this music.  It’s over 350-thousand years old.”  Before he could reply, I moved to the small console at the edge of the Broker’s compartment and said, “Irin, I’d like you to welcome Griffen Buchanan … he’s the gentleman I had been searching for.”

The music continued to play a cheerful melody as Iringù-Eßizkur replied, **›** _It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Buchanan-Griffen._ **‹**      

“It is joking, right?  It is a machine, Traynor.  How can it feel pleasure about … _anything_?”

Despite my best efforts, my mouth fell open in shocked disapproval.  “Griff, the Reapers were fully _sentient_ , intelligent machines when they rolled in through the Kite’s Nest!  As I said, Commander Shepard’s choice on the Crucible freed them from their imperative to indoctrinate organics; by so doing, she imbued each of them with a bit of her own DNA.”  I held up two fingers, spread apart in a ‘vee’, pointing to my eyes.  “Your eyes glow in the dark, as do mine—that’s a result of their nanites being grafted into our DNA.  It’s one reason our injuries seem to heal so much faster than before.”  Stepping further into the compartment, I added, “The only imperative Iringù-Eßizkur—hell, any of them—obeys now is to help organics … to help _us!_   A Destroyer named Asharru shadows the _Hong Kong_ everywhere Xiùlán takes the ship.  Others are repairing the relays and planetary infrastructure, even as we speak.”

By now, Griff was holding up his hands in a seemingly vain attempt to get me to stop talking.  “Okay!  Okay, Sammy …  I apologize … but you have to admit, all of this is really just … well, it is a bit much to take in all at once.”  He looked around a bit before adding, “I think I need to sit down for a few minutes.”

Thinking his color didn’t look all that great, I motioned for him to follow me.  “Let me show you the lounge, Griff.”

Apparently worried I would leave him alone inside this machine, he followed closely on my heels.  Walking backwards into the lounge area, I watched as his eyes widened in wonder when he saw the upholstered chairs arranged along one wall, all facing what appeared to be a large view screen on the opposite side.  Motioning for him to sit, he looked grateful to do so, choosing the chair closest to the entrance; he visibly relaxed as his eyes settled on the large monitor flush-mounted in the wall across from his chair.  He took note of the chronometers—one beneath the display, displaying current GST, and another above, displaying a row of paired zeros with colons between each pair.

I placed a hand on the broad shoulder beside me and squeezed slightly.  Standing beside the man, I could almost feel the waves of nervousness emanating from him as I explained, “The upper chronometer … the one that’s _zeroed_ … is the ‘time-to-destination’ display.  The monitor itself displays real-time views of the space environment, whether ahead, behind, or both simultaneously.  It can also serve as a tactical display.”  Pointing to the sides of the compartment, I added, “Personal spaces are on either side of this area—yours would be on the left, or port side; the dining area and kitchen are straight ahead through that hatch.”

Griff turned his head to look up at me.  “You seem pretty damned sure I am going to join you … work for you …”

I interrupted him with, “Not _for_ me, Griff.  You’d be working _with_ me, as a full partner in this endeavor.  There’s a huge difference … and I realize I’m asking a lot of you … asking you to have some faith and believe in me.  I honestly believe we can do this … rebuild the network of agents, find and broker valuable information … provide a sorely needed service.  The need is greater now, more than ever.” 

I explained how I had used information uncovered with the installed equipment to help Captain Cody and Zaeed Massani by flushing from hiding—with Sandra Patton’s assistance—the batarian Solem Dal’Serah, enabling Massani to track him to Vido Santiago’s hiding place.  “It’s how I wound up in hospital along with Sandee, the NCO in charge of _Normandy’s_ Weapons Systems Division.  We cleaned out a nest full of batarians …” I paused as Buchanan held up his hand.

“Sammy,” he said, voice sounding alarmingly tired.  “I get it.  Captain Bill Cody is hell-bent on eliminating the Blue Suns from existence, and it seems the Alliance in on board with that goal.  That you were able to use …” he raised his hands to indicate Iringù-Eßizkur, “… the equipment inside this metal monster to track down the head honchos of the Suns is all the proof I need that you are dead serious about doing this.”  Before I could comment, he added with a knowing smile.  “Well, that … and the fact you resigned from the Alliance.”

As he paused, Iringù-Eßizkur interrupted with, **›** _I am not a monster, Buchanan-Griffen._ **‹**

Buchanan responded with a chuckle, saying,  “A bit sensitive for a machine, aren’t you?”

I chimed in, saying, “Irin, I don’t think Griff will be convinced during such a short visit.”  Turning my attention to Buchanan, I said, “I don’t need an answer right away, Griff, but I _do_ need to know your intentions … within the next few days, if at all possible.”  With a brooding frown, I continued, “I’ll understand completely if you don’t wish to work with me again, especially since we would have to fend for ourselves without any kind of military backup.”

Buchanan, sitting back in the chair, seemed to relax slightly, even as he fell into a prolonged, pensive silence.  I walked through the hatchway to the kitchen/dining compartment, opened the cooler and grabbed a couple of beers.  Moving back into the lounge, I handed one to Griff, who murmured his gratitude before opening and taking a long pull from the bottle.

After several uncomfortably heavy—for me, anyway—minutes of silence and a couple more swallows of beer, he produced a loud belch before slowly getting to his feet.  “Sammy, I should probably be getting back to the _Celestial Viper._   I have to oversee the loading for our next delivery, soon as I get a good night’s sleep.”

After taking a couple of swallows from my own bottle, I quietly said, “Griff, do me a favor … sleep here tonight.  I’ll wager you’ll get a better night’s sleep here, in this Repository, than on the _Viper_.”  Raising my free hand, I pointed to the left side of the compartment and added, “Take a look in there.  The bed is extra-long … it's a custom size, made for a turian.  You’re probably just as tall … and Irin can easily adapt it to any size, should you desire a bit more width.”

Buchanan grimaced, then moved to inspect the sleeping area as he polished off his beer.  After several minutes, he reappeared in the hatchway, his voice carrying a touch of surprise … and awe, as he commented, “You weren’t exaggerating about that bed, Sammy.  Bathroom’s a bit tight, but I’m used to that.  So, we wouldn’t have to bunk together, or share a bathroom like before … but … well, I’m still not sure.”  He paused for a moment before continuing.  “I probably should get back to my ship for the evening, Sammy.  I want to think about everything you’ve told me before I make a decision, and there’s something about the way this thing is laid out … seems like the angles and surfaces are all out of kilter.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, I placed my hands on my hips as I replied, “Okay then.  Come on … I’ll give you a ride back to the freight docks.”  Picking up the empty bottles, I dropped them into a recycling tube before walking back towards the rear section with Buchanan following closely behind me.  Once we were both inside the speeder, I activated the drive core and brought the craft to a hover as Iringù-Eßizkur opened the doors beneath us; I let the craft descend from the small compartment, then deftly spun it around and headed for the Alpha Ward freight docks.

* * *

**♦ CELESTIAL VIPER, AT LARGE · WIDOW SYSTEM & SHRIKE ABYSSAL ♦**

Buchanan had been expecting a three-relay trip back to the Urla Rast system in the Shrike Abyssal, followed by a return trip to Bekenstein before docking at the Citadel; Captain Max Silva wanted to earn back some of the credits the repairs to the ship’s thrusters had cost him on Bekenstein. The revenue he could be paid for moving raw materials in the form of palladium and iridium, along with some platinum from Rosh, was too good to pass up.  Rather than transfer the cargo from a volus owned hauler on Omega Station as he had previously done, Silva had contracted with the shipper to load the cargo in orbit over Talis Fia; this would net the _Viper_ more credits for the run, and not having to pay the automatic ‘slice off the top’ to the station’s queen would mean even less overhead for the return trip.

Captain Silva had contracted for a back-haul of construction supplies to be delivered to the volus colony world; by keeping a tight schedule, the salarian hoped to maximize his profits for the round-trip.  Buchanan had overseen the ship’s loading with an eye towards a minimal amount of time spent unloading at their destination, so felt confident he could turn the ship around in a day, despite the additional time needed to transfer cargo between ships in an airless, micro-gravity environment.

Buchanan had been mulling over my offer; during the six days the _Celestial Viper_ spent in transit, he felt that he had come to a firm decision. He had contacted me after the task of unloading the _Viper_ at Bekenstein had been completed, requesting that I meet with him after the ship returned to the Citadel; I had agreed to wait long enough for him to complete the last leg of the trip, with a warning that I absolutely had to have his decision as soon as he returned.

As often happens in life, Fate took a personal interest in Griffin Buchanan’s future.

* * *

**♦ COMMERCIAL FREIGHT DOCKS, ALPHA WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Buchanan, having been summoned to the captain’s quarters on the _Celestial Viper_ , took a moment to take a deep, calming breath before passing his hand through the haptic interface guarding the hatch.  A reedy sounding voice bade him to enter as the lock went green.

Of some surprise, U’mal Votol, the ship’s salarian XO, was seated beside Captain Silva.  Waving Griff to a nearby chair, Silva stood and reached across his desk in order to hand Griff a datapad.  Returning to his chair, he stated, “I have some news for you, human … news I am afraid you will not be pleased to hear.”

Griff’s attention was drawn to the XO, who added, “On Omega Station, I told you I would hire an assistant for you after Surnal Gaemnor managed to get himself killed.”

Votol shifted his attention to Silva, who blinked several times before adding, “Yes, well, an assistant _has_ been found to work in the cargo hold.  Unfortunately for you, he is a fourth cousin; he insists it would be much more profitable for me to place him in total charge of the cargo hold on this ship.  He is of the opinion that if you require an assistant, you must be incapable of adequately performing the tasks for which I have been paying you.”

The salarian looked down for a moment in apparent embarrassment before returning his gaze to Griff, who was employing a great deal of effort to maintain a neutral expression.  “I have decided that you have made your last trip with us, human.  You have done an excellent job for me during your solo residence in cargo, so just to be fair, I will pay you a generous severance… two months additional wages, at your current rate, along with a percentage of the wages I no longer had to pay to Surnal Gaemnor.”  Looking at the datapad in Griff’s hand, he added, “It’s all right there, human.”

Buchanan stood, knowing his bulky frame was more intimidating that way; he placed the knuckles of both fists, each of which was easily the size of two, maybe even three salarian hands, on the desk and leaned over to look straight into Max Silva’s eyes.  With a grim smile, he quietly said, “The name is Buchanan … Griffen.  Buchanan.  And it will be four months wages, not two, or I will file an unfair labor practices grievance against you and this ship.”  Drawing back, he shifted his gaze between Votol and Silva as he added, “Any complaint I file against a salarian might ultimately be ignored, but do you really want to take a chance on having your ship locked down while the litigation grinds its way through the system?  Could be months before the _Celestial Viper_ sees space once again.”

Captain Silva’s mouth fell open as he blinked his large eyes in surprise.  Finding his voice, he squeaked, “You wouldn’t.”

Buchanan rose to his full height, seeming to fill the small compartment from wall-to-wall as he cocked back on one hip, crossed his arms across his massive chest and replied in a deathly low voice, “Oh, but I would.  It would appear Gaemnor was not the _only_ salarian on this barge with a low opinion of humans.  Four months wages, or this fucking ship sits idle for the next six months.” 

Silva looked at Votol for several moments before returning his attention to the enormous human standing over him.  “Three months wages, and the percentage I previously offered.”

Griff thought about it for a moment before holding the datapad out and saying “Done.  Make the entry so I can get the hell off this tub.”  Silva carefully activated his omnitool and, hands shaking with nervousness, made several entries before pressing his right thumb to the interface.  Griff looked at the new totals on the display; satisfied, he nodded and dismissed the pair with, “Too bad for you it was humans … and turians … and the krogan … that kept the Reapers from handing the salarian race their cloacae.”

Griff smiled at the stunned pair, nodded his head, then turned and stalked out of the captain’s cabin.  Looking at the datapad as he moved down the passage to his quarters, he thought,  _Guess he figured I really would complain to the shipping authorities if he had been any less generous … not that I was getting rich on what he paid me._   As he entered his quarters, he chuckled to himself.  _Son of a bitch actually did me a favor!  I would not have received any severance at all if I had walked in and simply quit._

It was the work of only a few minutes for him to gather and pack his clothing and few possessions; that done, he left the ship through the open cargo hold.  Walking to the side of the path taken by the several lifts beginning to bring cargo aboard, he used his body to roughly shove the new salarian cargo master out of his path as he walked down the ramp.  Once inside his apartment, he placed his travel packs on the the foot of his bed.  With the realization beginning to sink in that his employment had been abruptly terminated, he thought, _‘Better contact Sammy before she rescinds her offer.’_

Taking a seat in the rickety chair by his bed, he carefully entered the address for my omnitool; when I didn’t respond to his audio-chat request, he sent me a text message:  

> _Traynor.  I am off the Celestial Viper … for good.  My job was terminated, just because I am a human.  I am still having a difficult time wrapping my head around your unconditional trust in that Reaper, Sammy, but what the hell … I will join you.  I will be in my apartment in Alpha Ward. Perhaps we can meet for dinner?  The salarians gave me a rather_ _generous severance payment, so it will be my treat this time!  Hope to hear from you shortly.  Buchanan._

Pressing send, he decided to take a shower and change his clothes while awaiting my reply.

* * *

 


	4. We Are Where We Were

_Here are the things I want for you - I want you to be happy.  I want someone else to know the warmth of your smile, to feel the way I did when I was in your presence.  I want you to know how happy you once made me and though you really did hurt me, in the end, I was better for it.  I don’t know if what we had was love, but if it wasn’t, I hope to never fall in love.  Because of you, I know I am too fragile to bear it.  I want you to remember my lips beneath your fingers and how you told me things you never told another soul.  I want you to know that I have kept sacred, everything you had entrusted in me and I always will.  Finally, I want you to know how sorry I am for pushing you away when I had only meant to bring you closer.  And if I ever felt like home to you, it was because you were safe with me - I want you to know that most of all._ — Lang Leav, _Lullabies_

* * *

**_GST_** – Galactic Standard Time, standardized time system utilized by inhabitants of Citadel Council Space  
**_Húdié dāo_** – [蝴蝶刀] – butterfly sword (knife in English)  
**_Inamorata_** – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)  
**_Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name ‘Erin’ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of ‘Iringù-Eßizkur’  
**_Liǔyè dāo_** – literally, a willow leaf saber; military sidearm for cavalry and infantry during the Ming (1368–1644)  
                   and Qing (1644–1911) dynasties.  It weighs from 0.9 to 1.3 Kg, and is 91 to 99 Cm. long.  
**_Mo cheann geallta_** – My promised one (Gaelic)  
**_Qíngrén_** – [情人 – lover]  
**_Siame_** – “One who is all”, a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian/Source: CDN)

* * *

**♦ CITADEL · AT LARGE ♦**

I would have bet nearly anything that Griffin Buchanan would not wish to join me; he seemed to be quite happy working as a cargo-master on the _Celestial Viper,_ _and_ he had been decidedly less than enthusiastic at the idea of spending _any_ time working—to say nothing of possibly being required to occasionally live—inside a former adversary.  Still, I could not keep a self-satisfied smile from erupting on my face as I quickly composed and sent a reply to his note.  I had really hoped to have an answer from him before the end of the week … thankfully, the salarian owner of the _Viper_ had unknowingly tipped Buchanan’s hand in my favor.  After setting the purchases from my shopping trip on the dining table, I climbed back up the circular staircase to the rooftop shelter where my speeder was parked.

In less than twenty minutes I was over the freighter docks in Bravo Ward; as I banked into a tight circle overhead, I gazed down at the docks in an attempt to visually locate the _Celestial Viper_ among the many Kowloon Class vessels in port.  As I continued to slowly orbit the area, I set the speeder's locator-receiver to the specific frequency of Buchanan’s omnitool; I had loaded and saved his ident-code years ago—before our Ø7 program had been terminated—so I was rather surprised to almost immediately be rewarded with a signal that was unmistakably from Griff. 

Actually, I found it more than a bit troubling that the man had never thought to change his code, especially after all the shit we’d been through while working for General Park; I slaved the X3M’s flight controls to the signal, enabling the speeder to fly directly to a parking area near the housing complex where Griff was staying.  After parking the speeder, I walked into the building, climbed a narrow staircase and proceeded down a dimly lit passageway.  Stopping in front of his door, I closed the interface on my tool and used my knuckles to rap lightly on the door’s surface.

When the door sections slid into their pockets to reveal my rather large friend, I cocked my head, looked up into a pair of greenish-grey eyes and commented with a slight chuckle, “Looks as if your ship left without you, Griff.”

He grinned back at me and snarked, “Damn, Sammy!  What a surprisingly accurate observation.  It would seem you have this information gathering business down cold.”  He turned, grabbed his packs from his bed and joined me in the narrow passageway.

Walking a step ahead of him, I commented over my shoulder, “I was just a bit surprised … pleased, for sure, but still … surprised to get your message.”  After preceding him down the stairs, I added, “What happened to your job on the _Celestial Viper?_ ”

Griff chuckled as I led him back to my speeder.  “Seems the _Viper’s_ captain found a salarian that would take over the cargo-master’s position for a bit less than I was being paid; Captain Silva paid me what I was owed, plus three months wages as severance.  Hired a cousin to replace me … he was loading cargo as I walked off the ship.”  He chuckled again, then continued softly, “It will probably turn out for the best, Sammy—neither the owner nor his XO are too keen on humans.”

“His loss is definitely my gain, but only if you’re truly serious about joining me,” I said with a genuine smile.  “You think you can get used to flying around in a Reaper turned Repository?”

“No … at least, not immediately.  Those things did massive amounts of damage, Sammy, galaxy wide.  It is still difficult for me to accept that they are helping all the races rebuild, even knowing they are the reason that Commander Shepard walks among us again.”

Reaching the speeder, I activated the entry protocols and slid the canopy forward; Griff tossed his packs into the rear, then climbed in to sit beside me.  I powered up the small mass effect core and propulsion system while the canopy slid closed and latched over our heads; Buchanan settled back in his seat as I brought the speeder up and around for the flight back to Delta Ward.

Glancing at my companion as we flew, I said in a soft voice.  “Shepard’s on Thessia, joining in a matrimonial bond with Liara T’Soni.”  Shaking my head, as if still in disbelief at the recent turn of events, I added, “All the equipment and properties the previous Shadow Broker owned has been left for me … for us … to use.  Iringù-Eßizkur has assured me she will be as faithful to me as she was to my predecessor.”

Griff was silent for several minutes.  Finally speaking as we crossed the Presidium Ring on our way to my apartment, he voiced another doubt in a hesitant tone.  “You know, Sammy … it occurred to me while I was waiting for you … a woman of _your_ talents, having access to the specialized equipment aboard Iringù-Eßizkur, could have very easily engineered that salarian’s offer to steal my job on the _Viper_.”

Stunned, I looked at Buchanan in slack-jawed amazement.  When he remained uncomfortably silent, I replied as calmly as I could, “Griff, if you think for one second that I would do such a thing to you, after all the time we spent together on missions, then this partnership isn’t going to work.  I used my equipment to locate you … to locate the ship that employed you, and that’s _all_ I did.”  Returning my gaze outside as the speeder began slowing for a landing, I continued without looking at him.  “I’ll admit, I could have easily sabotaged your job on that freighter in the meager hope that you would join me out of … I don’t know … loyalty?  Desperation?  I didn’t … I couldn’t do that to you, Buchanan!  Dammit, you’re my _friend_ , and there are few enough people in my life about which I can say that.  I wouldn’t have been able to live with the guilt if I had …”  I huffed in exasperation.  “Sabotaging your position on that ship never even occurred to me!”

Shaking my head as I flew the X3M the last hundred meters to settle into the rooftop shelter, I turned to look at him before shutting the systems down.  “Griff, look at me.”  When he reluctantly turned his eyes to meet mine, I met them with an intense stare.  “I need to know, right now, before you get out of this speeder, what’s it going to be?  You gonna work with me?”  Pausing for a moment, I hardened the scowling stare on my face as I ground out, “Are you in, or out … a hundred percent … or nothing.”

I could see the flush rising from inside his collar to crawl up his neck and encircle his ear as he looked down and away in embarrassed silence. After a number of tense moments, he looked at me once again.  “Traynor, I am truly sorry.  I should know better, and I apologize for even _thinking_ you might have had a hand in me losing my job.”  He reached over in a hesitant manner, offering his right hand.  “You have always been straight up with me … hell, you saved my life on Cartagena Station, so yeah … count me in … a hundred percent … whatever you need me to do.”

Despite my bluster at his accusation, I was so damned relieved all I could do was grin idiotically as I gripped his huge hand and pumped it twice. “Good to know.  Let’s get downstairs, maybe grab a bite to eat.  I have some components to assemble and test, then there’s software upgrades to the equipment inside Iringù-Eßizkur.  Lots to do.”  I finished shutting down the X3M’s systems, climbed out of the speeder and insured the outer access door was latched and locked, then unlocked the stairwell and started down, followed by a very quiet Buchanan.

Once we entered the apartment and I locked the door behind us, Griff met my eyes once more.  “Alright, Sammy.  If I am going to be doing this, you and I need to sit down for a bit; you need to fill me in on everything … and I do mean everything.  I need to see the system, learn how it works, and what, exactly, you expect our partnership to yield … and where I fit into the whole thing.”  He dipped his head in apparent nervousness as he continued in a subdued voice, “You no doubt remember me telling you I am not the same man as before, Sammy.  I cannot run ops on the ground anymore … in all likelihood I would only get one or both of us killed.”

I looked at him in quiet sympathy, waiting to see if he wanted to explain further.  Seeing no pity in my eyes, he visibly relaxed … just a little, but remained silent.  Hoping to make him feel better about the deal, I responded, “I nearly died during my last op, Griff; I have no intention of either of us ever again being field operatives.  My initial idea was for me to become the information director while you directed the military ops, but we’re partners, so nothing is set in stone.  There are Broker teams out there, simply waiting for new instructions.  Our first job will be to get the network back up and fully operational … then, we find customers and put the teams to work gathering the info we need.  Simple as that.”

“You make it sound so damned easy, Sammy,” Griff replied as he looked at me; his skepticism all too obvious in expression and tone.  “But I know it will be anything but.”

Grinning at his observation, I replied, “But it really won’t be that difficult either, because all the hard work has already been done.  We just have to step in and pick it back up, just like what happened after Shepard and her squad eliminated the previous Broker.”

“And, I assume our job will be easier because _your_ predecessor is still alive … and possibly willing to help us with the transition?”  Griff raised an eyebrow and, for the first time, the start of a smile began to creep onto his face.

Smiling hopefully in return, I chuckled lightly before answering, “Yes, my predecessor is _very_ much alive, and will be enjoying a well-deserved—and long delayed—vacation.”

Buchanan nodded in acceptance, his overall demeanor brightening as he replied, “Alright.  Not like we will be ready to go anytime soon, anyway. Seems I have a lot to learn, so how about we get started?”

Grinning, I said, “Alright then … partner.  Let’s start by showing you your quarters; you can stow your gear … and we can begin our lives as the new Shadow Broker.  Right this way … _Agent_ Buchanan.”

* * *

**♦ BRAVO WARD, CITADEL · WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Once Buchanan had stored his gear, we made a quick trip over to Iringù-Eßizkur, where I spent the remainder of the morning going over the Brokerage processes and systems in great detail.  Since Griff had never seen the systems before, much less used them, I demonstrated the same techniques I had initially learned while assisting Liara aboard the _Normandy_.  Much to my relief, Buchanan proved to be a quick study, making me confident that, in time, we could become as good a team now as we had been in the past … maybe even _better_ , once Griff became more familiar with the systems and we figured out the balance between our new distribution of responsibilities.

After returning to the apartment to enjoy a midday lunch, we began to actually work; I assembled the components for the new relay transmitters as Buchanan sorted and put away some of his clothing and gear.  He was walking past the small table near the elevator when he spotted something he had failed to notice during his brief visit the previous week.  “Hey Sammy … how long have you had this?”

After looking up to see what Griff was referring to, I answered offhandedly, “Since shortly after Cap’n Cody assumed command of the _Normandy;_ it belonged to Spectre Shepard … a gift from Aria T’Loak.  Shepard knows how much I enjoy playing chess, so rather than keep it for herself and allow it to simply gather dust, she told Cody he could give it to me.  Pretty nice, don’t you think?”

Griff was actually bent down, studying the elaborate appearance of the set.  “It’s _extremely_ nice, Sammy, and not something one sees every day.”  I could guess he was taking note of the wooden case under the ranks and files of inlaid wooden squares, and the game pieces of carved and polished ebony and crystal.  “It probably cost a small fortune when it was new, in case you didn’t know.”

I had to grin at _that_ statement.  “Middle of the damned war, Shepard assisted Aria in retaking Omega Station from Cerberus.  When Aria was once again in control of the station, she … appropriated … that chess set from its former owner—a Cerberus general named Oleg Petrovsky—I guess Aria felt she owed the commander something tangible for her assistance.”

“I had heard rumors … stories … that Cerberus had their claws in Omega … sounds like the stories were all true,” Griff replied.  “Good thing Shepard was able to lend a hand in taking it back.”

I was finalizing some rather delicate connections on the main circuit board of the relay transmitter, so remained silent for several minutes.  When finished, I looked up at Griff.  “Cerberus wanted control of Omega Station so they could monitor the Omega-4 relay.  The Illusive Man’s scientists had found the destroyed remains of the Collector Base in the Galactic core and were conducting some really twisted experiments; even unleashed some of their results on the station.  From what Shepard reported when she returned, it was some pretty horrific shit.  Having Aria back in charge of that place is a hellova lot better for everyone than it would have been if Cerberus had stayed.”

I walked over to stand beside Griff, sighing as I looked at the game set.  “I managed to convince Shepard to play against me one time—on a small, portable set I owned—shortly after we left Mars.”  The memories from that time in my life caused me to giggle.  “Kicked.  Her.  Ass!  Hard.  She couldn’t seem to use her pawns to simply run interference … kept offering them up to me like sacrificial lambs.”

Griff chuckled as well.  “You and I will have to play sometime, Sammy.  I’ll admit to being rusty, but maybe I can give you a a bit of competition.”

Grinning at his offer, I moved back to the table I was using as a workbench.  Picking up another set of loose components, I began assembling a rather special transceiver—a present I intended to give to a rather special person.

Following me over, Griff commented, “You always _were_ better with all the tech gizmos than I ever was … or could be.”  Flashing me a quick grin, he added, “When you’re done, I need to do some shopping.  I have to update my current weapons mods and, if we’re gonna have two bases of operations … here and that infernal machine … I want to buy some additional set-ups, so I don’t find myself at one place or the other without everything I need.”

Without looking up from my work, I answered in an offhand manner.  “That makes a lot of sense.  You can get that done when I’m done here, when I head out to Irin to install everything.”

It was late afternoon by the time I was ready to take my newly assembled components to Iringù-Eßizkur for installation and testing.  Before leaving the apartment, I gave Griff a copy of the door and elevator algorithms needed to operate the locks to get back in.  I also had him change his omnitool’s ident-code, explaining to him how easy it had been for me to track him at the freighter docks.  “That complacency has to change, Griff,” I explained in an earnest voice.  “I don’t want anyone tracking you to this location or to Iringù-Eßizkur; there’s too much at stake, for both of us.” Grabbing one of his hands, I looked up at him intently.  “You have to change your mindset … back to the way we operated when we were on missions together.”

Buchanan blushed as he said, “I am sorry, Sammy.  I have not had to think like that since before the war.  I spent ten weeks in a hospital bed recovering from my injuries, and I explained that when I could not return to my former active duty position, I elected to take a medical discharge.  Not much reason to be stealthy on a damned freighter.”

I gave his hand a squeeze before releasing it with a smile.  “I realize that, Griff.  But it’s important for _you_ to realize just how alone we really are now.  Except for Cartagena Station, we’ve never had to do clandestine work without some form of backup.”  Heading for the stairs to the roof, I said, “I’ll see you back here in a few hours.  If everything goes well, I’ll be stopping over at the Alliance docks to see Xiùlán before I return.”  Turning back to face him as he entered the elevator, I activated my omnitool and said, “I’m transferring some credits to you … along with the location of a capable—and very _discreet_ —gunsmith.  Tell ‘im I sent you … he’ll be happy to supply you with what you’re looking for, at a reasonable price, and no questions asked.  Have fun.”

Griff gave me a rather cheeky salute as he closed the doors, saying, “I’ll do that.  Thanks.”

* * *

**♦ SYSTEMS ALLIANCE DOCK C-7, BERTH 04 · CITADEL ♦**

Despite some initial misgivings, the installations inside Iringù-Eßizkur had gone remarkably well; having completed the work a bit sooner than anticipated, I had traveled to the Alliance’s frigate docks in order to visit with the captain of the _SSV Hong Kong_.  After parking my speeder outside the fence, I submitted to a cursory search of my person before being handed a large badge bearing the word VISITOR in large letters and being allowed to proceed.

With the badge clipped to the collar of my dark leather duster, I entered the docks and began walking towards the _Hong Kong_ , docked in the berth to the port side of the _Normandy_ ; my path was far from a straight line due to the number of people working on the dockyard and the haphazardly placed freight pallets and containers that I needed to dodge.  As I was beginning to walk under the nose of my former posting, I paused for a moment upon spotting a Marine walking down the deployed hanger-bay ramp.  Something about the soldier’s profile looked familiar; upon closer inspection, I was thrilled to discover the Marine was Sandra Patton.  “Sandee,” I called out, waving a hand.  I waited for the Master Gunnery Sergeant to draw closer before saying, “It’s so good to see you!  How are you doing?”

Sandee surprised me by wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug.  Releasing me after a quick peck on the cheek, she replied, “Super … still on light duty, but Commander Cortez is keeping me busy.  Walk with me?”

I fell into step beside the woman as she continued to speak.  “The ship finally has a proper inventory of all the small arms on board, and I’ve been running the Marines through drills and live fire exercises in the practice arena.”

Grinning, I inquired in a snarky tone, “And … just how, exactly, does that equate to light duty?”

“Oh, I’m not running _with_ them … at least, not yet,” came the rejoinder.  “I get to stalk the sidelines and shout instructions … and criticisms, while they work.”  With a chuckle, she added, “Probably as close as I’ll ever get to being a backfield commander.”

As we drew abreast of the _Hong Kong’s_ nose, I grabbed Patton’s upper arm and pulled lightly as she stopped walking.  “I’m here to see Xiùlán, Sandee.  Where are you off to?  You look a bit more dressed up than usual.”

Patton blushed slightly as she grinned and said, “Against my better judgement, I’m going to meet Zaeed … have a few drinks, a quiet dinner … and talk.”  Responding to the doubt that immediately clouded my expression, she quickly added, “He was the one asking me, Sammy.  I want … I need … to hear what he has to say.”

Shaking my head minutely from side-to-side once, I responded with, “I can’t imagine him inviting you to dinner just to rip your heart out again, Sandee.”  Grasping one of Patton’s hands, I added, “That said, don’t let ’im, okay?  I know you like ’im … maybe even think you love ’im, but dammit, I believe you can do so much better.  Just … be on your guard … please?”

Patton smiled; pulling me close, she hugged me again, a bit more intimately than before.  “I’ll be careful, Sammy,” she whispered in my ear.  “He hurt me once, and he knows it.  I don’t think he’ll hurt me again.”  Releasing me, Patton turned and headed for the gate.  “Don’t be a stranger,” she called over her shoulder. 

The Marine standing guard outside the _Hong Kong’s_ hanger ramp had recognized me as I approached his position, so had relayed notice of my impending visit to the OOD.  As I approached his position at the bottom of the access ramp, a tall goddess with long hair the color of ebony strode out of the hanger bay and walked down the ramp towards me.  When we were within a few paces of each other, Xiùlán called out, “Sà mǐ!  Why didn’t you call me?  I would have met you at the gate.”

Her cheeky grin was pure joy to my soul, as I am sure mine was to hers; it was an indication that I was doing well since parting company with the Alliance.  “No real need, as long as the perimeter guards will allow me access,” I explained.  “When that changes, I’ll let you know, after I send a written protest to Admiral Hackett.”  As Xiùlán stopped in front of me, her grin grew wider.  “Of course, he’ll probably tell me to go pound sand, but that’s fine,” I added softly.  “I no longer work for the Alliance, and I certainly owe them nothing for the way I was treated.”

Xiùlán grabbed my free hand and led me several meters away from the ship.  Turning to face me, my _qíngrén_ placed a rather chaste kiss on my forehead and whispered, “The implication being you’ll not sell them information?  Or place a premium price on whatever you _do_ sell?”  The grin I gave her in reply was all the answer she required, so she changed the subject; looking at the package I was carrying, she asked, “What’s in the case, Sà mǐ?”

“A present for you.  Take the case, Ai [愛 - _Love_ (my meaning was _‘Luv’)_ ] … it contains a secure transceiver.  It can utilize the _Hong Kong’s_ antenna array to connect to the comm buoys, and can decode any encrypted message I send you, wherever you might be in the galaxy.  Any message you need to send to me will be automatically encrypted prior to transmission.  It’s a secure way for us to communicate, and no other ship in the galaxy will have one, not even the _Normandy_.”

Xiùlán shook her head minutely, saying, “Not here, Sà mǐ.  Too open, too public, even if these docks _are_ controlled by the Alliance military.  I’ll need to meet you somewhere a bit more … private.  Send a time and location to my omnitool, darling; I’ll come see you.  I’m sure you weren’t followed, and I’ll be sure _I’m_ not tailed when I leave the ship.”  Placing another chaste kiss on my forehead— _what the fuck is up with that?_ —she said, “Nǐ de ài shǐ wǒ de shēnghuó wánzhěngle.” [你的愛使我的生活完整了— _Your love makes my life complete.]_   Turning, she slowly walked back to her ship, leaving me with an aching heart as I stood rooted to the spot.  After watching her for several moments, I turned around to walk back the way I had come.  Thinking, _Must be something happening on these docks I’m unaware of … and that’s a situation I cannot allow to continue._

Once outside the fence and back inside my speeder, I made a quick call to Griff to obtain his location; relieved that he was ready for a ride _home_ , I made the brief detour to pick him up, then traveled a circuitous route back to the apartment, doubling back on my path several times to ensure we weren’t being followed.  While traveling, I quizzed Griff concerning his acquisitions; he explained he had purchased several weapons from my recommended dealer—the goal being to possess enough weapons that he would never be completely unarmed, whether inside Iringù-Eßizkur or inside the apartment.

Before descending the circular staircase to our residence, he dropped one of his two newly acquired bags just inside the doorway, intending to store the weapons and gear contained within it inside the Repository as soon as I traveled back to confirm the installations and connections of my new equipment.  Once inside the apartment, I used my omnitool to send Xiùlán a location and time for us to meet; I was anxious that my _amantia_ have the device in her possession before the _Hong Kong_ needed to depart on its next assignment.

* * *

**♦** **RESTAURANT ROW NEAR THE DOCKS, DELTA WARD · CITADEL** **♦**

Still on light-duty restrictions, Sandra Patton had been permitted an evening ashore; she walked into the lobby of the same restaurant where she had previously dined with Zaeed, shortly before Samantha Traynor had joined them to assist in gaining access to Solem Dal’Serah’s offices in the Blue Suns Delta Ward headquarters.

Studying the patrons in the dining area failed to reveal the presence of Massani, so she turned her attention to the bar; after a few moments of looking, she saw him leaning on the far end of the counter.  Walking up to stand beside him, she brushed his shoulder with hers as she leaned on the bar with crossed arms, then looked at him and asked with a smile, “Buy a girl a drink?”

Without looking at her or acknowledging her arrival, he held a finger up to get the bartender’s attention; raising his own glass of English Stout, he pointed a thumb at Sandee, then polished off the remainder of his own glass.  Finally turning to look at her, he remarked, “Hi, Luv.  We’ll just ’ave a pint ’ere together, if yew don’t mind … then we kin get a table, ’ave some dinner?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”  Still unsure about the status of their relationship after he had left while she was hospitalized, she decided to take it slow.  “It’s good to see you again, Massani.  What’s been happening with you since we last spoke?”  _Lame, Sandee!  My god, get it together!_ she thought as he grinned back at her.

“Been researchin’ the few records you an’ Traynor got out of Dal’Serah’s office before dat bomb esploded.  Found some leads on more Blue Suns ops in the Terminus Systems.”  Zaeed rubbed the scarred side of his face for a moment, then continued with a tired sigh.  “I’m was ’opin’ to speak wiv Specialist Traynor, see if she can use some ov dat ’igh-end equipmen’ inside Iringù-Eßizkur ter dig a bi’ deeper.”

Patton picked up the glass that had appeared in front of her and took a swallow before replying.  “Come on, Zaeed … let’s go get a table and order our meals.  I just saw Sammy, and I have a bit of news you’ll need to hear concerning her.”

Silently nodding his head, Zaeed picked up his glass of stout and—of real surprise to Sandra—extended his arm for her to grasp, before leading the way into the dining area.  After the pair were seated at a surprisingly secluded table, she ordered a dinner similar to what she’d enjoyed during her previous visit, while Massani ordered fish and chips and another glass of English Stout.

“So, what news do yew ’ave concerning Specialist Traynor?”  He took a couple of swallows from his glass while waiting for her reply.

 _Getting right to the point—no beating around the bush._   With a small sigh, Patton replied, “The _specialist_ resigned her commission in the Systems Alliance, Zaeed, shortly before I was discharged from the hospital.”  She went on to explain the reasons for Traynor’s seemingly rash act, concluding with, “Sammy felt that Iringù-Eßizkur—and the equipment inside her—was too damned rare and important to allow it to be used for the exclusive benefit of the Systems Alliance, or any other galactic agency.” 

She paused as their dinners were brought to the table; alone once more, she continued her explanation by telling Massani just how capable Samantha Traynor was as a soldier.  “I’ve never seen her equal, Zaeed—she’s completely ruthless against batarians—a stone-cold killer;  saved my ass in that place at least twice, then managed to send a distress call to the _Normandy_.”

Zaeed chuckled.  “Haven’t come across that many people what _don’t_ ’ate squints; Dal’Serah was still alive when I found ’im, so I don’t think ’e told Vido exactly what ’appened in Delta.”

Sandra nodded her understanding as she continued, “I believe Sammy received some scary intense training back before the war; she told me most of her pre-war service records have large portions redacted.  The brass wanted her to …” raising her hands, she made ‘air’ quotes with her fingers as she continued, “ … _volunteer_ … to serve as a data-broker inside that Repository.  When Captain Cody and Admiral Hackett declined to fix her records, she handed Cody her resignation.”

Zaeed had applied himself to his dinner and beer while Patton was speaking.  Taking her pause as an opportunity, he asked in a low voice, “So, yew tellin’ me she’s gon’a be da new Shadow Broker?”  He took a bite of potato, followed by a swallow of beer as he thought about everything Patton had just told him.  “I suppose that means I’ll ’ave ter pay ’er fer any information she manages ter turn up fer me, eh?”

Sandra smiled as she responded, “I don’t see how she can just give it away, Zaeed.  She’s working for herself now, so needs creds same as everyone else.  Information is power—it takes time and resources to obtain.  Besides being a total bad-ass with blades and guns, Sammy’s intelligent … one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.  There’s no doubt in my mind that she’ll become an insanely good data-broker.”

Zaeed grunted as he finished eating the fish before draining his glass.  After wiping his mouth and hands, he sat back and said, “You’re probably correct.  I knew ’aving that asset fer free an’ all wouldn’t last.”  The next thing he said nearly made Patton choke on the beer she was getting ready to swallow.  “So, let’s talk about us, Luv.”

After a small coughing fit to clear the bits of liquid that had found their way down her windpipe, she gasped, “What _about_ us, Zaeed?  As I recall, you made your feelings pretty damned clear in the hospital.”  Patton couldn’t be sure in the dimly lit restaurant, but Massani seemed discomfited … his face appeared to be a ruddy shade of red that couldn’t simply be attributed to his alcohol consumption.

Leaning forward, Zaeed reached across the table to gently grasp a soft hand.  “I owe yew an apology, Luv.  I realize I mos’ likely broke your ’eart in dat ’ospital, an’ I’m really sorry.  Yew deserve better than dat … yew deserve better’n me.”

He looked down as Patton replied, “Zaeed …  What I truly deserve is honesty.  I really believed you had some feelings for me.  Dammit to hell, Zaeed!  I’ll just come out with it!  I think I’m in love with you!  Not the ‘get-married-live-happily-ever-after’ kind of love either … it’s…”  Her voice hitched and tears began slowly trickling down her cheeks.  With a great deal of effort, she managed to finish in a nearly normal tone of voice, “I don’t know how to explain it, how to put it into words, okay?  You’ve spent so much of your life alone, and maybe that’s been okay for you.  I can understand you not wanting to lower your barriers … you’re afraid to let anyone in … afraid to let _me_ in, afraid you might lose your edge.”

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks; studying him in the dim light, she whispered, “I will not cost you your edge, Zaeed, and I think you need me … but, if you truly have no feelings for me … no room in your heart for me, then look me in the eye and say it.  Please, tell me now.  Don’t leave me hanging.”

Massani continued to hold Patton’s hand while she was speaking; now, he looked at her intently, the piercing blue of his left eye seemingly boring into her soul.  “Sandee, yew wan’ da truth, do you?  Fine then … ’ere i’ is.  Hearin’ ’ow close yew came ter dyin’ in dat Blue Suns ’ellhole scared me shitless!  It was _my_ goddamned vendetta against da Suns what got you … an’ yeah, Samantha Traynor … in that situashun.  Yew need ter understand why I ain’t ’eld _anyone_ close ter me fer over twen’y fuckin’ years.  I wouldn’t be able ter carry on if me actions had got yew killed, understand?  Your death would ’ave been da end of me, Sandra … it would have absolutely broken me.”

Patton stared at the old merc for several moments as she thought of everything she’d just been told.  Massani had bared his soul to her, something she had never expected.  Choosing her words with great care, she replied, “Zaeed … I had no idea.  What you just told me?  You do realize you getting killed in the Terminus would have had a similar effect on me, don’t you?”  She squeezed the gnarled hand holding hers.  “I didn’t go into that hellhole with the expectation of dying, Zaeed.  Until that explosion, I never felt my life was in any real danger.  But you were not responsible for that, you stupid old coot!

Massani stared at her in stunned disbelief for several moments, before leaning back in his chair; much to Patton’s annoyance, he started to laugh. Noticing the look on her face, he tried to contain himself with his free hand over his mouth, but continued to chortle while attempting to explain. “In all me years, I ain’t never been called an old coot!  I’ll admi’ ter bein’ stupid where i’ concerns relashunships, but really?  An ‘old _coot’?”_   Saying the words brought on another round of honest laughter, such that Patton gradually joined in.

He wiped the tears from his cheeks as he managed to regain control, prompting Sandra to remark with a chuckle, “Damn, Zaeed.  I never dreamed I’d ever hear you laugh, especially like that.  One might almost think capturing Santiago and Dal’Serah has changed you—for the better, I might add.”

Zaeed had finished his meal; taking the last swallow of stout from his glass, he caught the eye of their waiter; Massani asked about credits owed for the meals and beverages, then took care of the bill before Patton could protest.  By way of explanation, he said, “Alliance Navy was rather generous in coverin’ me expenses on Susskind Station.  Least I can do is pay fer yer dinner.  Come on …  Let’s push off.  I’ll walk wiv yew back ter da _Normandy_.”

* * *

**♦ SYSTEMS ALLIANCE DOCK C-7, BERTH 03 · CITADEL ♦**

Zaeed paused at the guarded checkpoint near the Alliance docks where the _Normandy_ and _Hong Kong_ were berthed; turning towards Patton, he started to simply say good night when she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.  “Dammit, Sandee,” he whispered in her ear.  “I need ter tell yew somethin’.”

Patton pulled back slightly while keeping her hands on his shoulders and waited silently as she stared into his eyes.

Tipping his head down, he unabashedly studied the impressions of her breasts under her blouse, pressed up against his chest, as he said in a soft voice, “Yew know dat Vido paid ’is blokes ter ’old me down while ’e put a goddamned bullet in me ’ead.  I s’pose I’m lucky ter ’ave lived through it, but there was some side effects … shit I ain’t never shared wiv anyone … certainly not a woman …” here he hesitantly returned his one-eyed gaze to her face as he continued, “especially a bird I’ve come ter care fer.”

Sandra could plainly see the old merc was unhappy with what he was about to share.  “Zaeed, it can’t possibly be that bad, whatever it is.”  She grabbed both his hands; bringing them up to her chest, she continued, “Just tell me, please.  You have my word I won’t judge you.”

Massani was uncomfortably aware Sandra was lightly pressing the backs of his hands into the soft fullness he had just been admiring.  With a heavy sigh, he leaned in against her a bit harder, enjoying the _feel_ of her body, without feeling any _effects_ from the contact.  “Ever since dat day, I ain’t been capable, Luv.”  With an anguished look down at his hands, held prisoner against her chest, he said, “I ’aven’t been able ter lie wiv a woman fer over twenty fuckin’ years, me luv!  I’m…”  Zaeed paused for a moment, as if what he needed to say was sticking in his throat.  “I’m impotent, is what.”

Stunned by his admission, Sandra took a moment before replying.  “Zaeed, I am so sorry.”  She studied his face for a moment before asking, “Were you assuming my only reason for having feelings for you was in order to have sex with you?”  She lowered her eyes for a moment.  When she looked back up, there was conviction in her expression.  “I don’t need you to make love to me, Massani.  Just knowing that you care for me … that I’m special to you … is enough.  Just … please don’t ever shut me out again, Zaeed.  That really hurt me, ya know?”

Massani’s reaction was totally unexpected.  Leaning in ever so slowly, he kissed her full on the mouth.  Drawing back, he held his breath, waiting for a reaction.  What he received was unexpected; Sandra released the old merc’s hands and lowered hers to his waist, where she reached around to embrace him.  With his own hands still trapped between them, he carefully rotated them around in order to place his palms and fingers on her breasts; this elicited a groan of pleasure as she returned his kiss, with interest.

Breaking away to take a breath, she smiled coquettishly and whispered, “Say what you will, Zaeed … you’re a good kisser.”  Glancing past his shoulder, she finished with, “I should go …  It’s been a really long day; I have more weapons drills to oversee in the morning, and I have to undergo another physical in the afternoon.  Here’s hoping Doctor Chakwas will release me to full duty.’

“Okay, then,” came the reply.  “Thanks fer ’avin’ dinner wiv me, Sandra … I really enjoyed yer company.”  Leaning in, he kissed her on the cheek before bidding her good night, then turned to stroll back the way they had come.  Patton touched her cheek with her fingers as she watched him leave, wondering when … or if … she would see him again.

* * *

 


	5. First Mission, Delta Ward

_Persephone, grant me the foresight to know when I must let go my old life to start anew; Artemis, grant me the strength of your spine when you helped deliver Apollo, your own twin; Athena, grant me the solidarity in your sinews for which you were born in all of your armour; Aphrodite, grant me the kind of heart that always follows my passions true; Andromeda, grant me the wish to never fall out of love with the night sky or the glisten of its stars; And Hera, grant me your fury, so I can remind my enemies I am not the weakness they perceive, I am the oncoming storm … I am war!_ — Nikita Gill

* * *

 ** _Inamorata_** – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)  
**_Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _‘Erin’_ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _‘Iringù-Eßizkur’  
_**_Kaffe_** – equatorial Thessian vine, the seeds of which are used to produce a non-alcoholic beverage of the same name,  
            the taste described as a mix of coffee and chocolate. (Thessian/Source: CDN)  
**_Liǔyè dāo_** – literally, a willow leaf saber; military sidearm for cavalry and infantry during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1911) dynasties.  
                   It weighs from 0.9 to 1.3 Kg, and is 91 to 99 Cm. long.  
**_Nángùn_** – [南棍] – literally, a ‘southern staff’, polished, two-meter long white wax wooden staff.  
**_Qíngrén_** – [情人 – lover]

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, BRAVO WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Buchanan was glancing around nervously as I made ready to leave him in order to begin working in the close-by data center.  “I’ll just be on the other side of this bulkhead, Griff.”

He dropped his bags in his new mobile quarters before focusing on the ceiling.  “I am not saying I trust you, but if Sammy says you are okay, that is something I can live with … I hope I can live with, anyway.  It is just difficult for me to accept that you will not kill me in my sleep.”

 **›** _I will reiterate_ … _I am not a monster, Buchanan-Griffen.   I harbor no hidden desire to harm you._‹  Iringù-Eßizkur paused for a moment before adding, › _You spoke of the angles and surfaces being ‘out of kilter’.   If you dislike the interior, I can alter its appearance … just explain what you expect.  It is a malleable arrangement that can be transformed with little more than a thought._ **‹**

Griff looked at me dumbfounded before answering in a voice reflecting his amazement.  “If you can do that, I would be very grateful … or I will not be able to stay in here for any length of time.  Looking around in here actually induces a touch of nausea within me.”  He let out a soft sigh.  “All I ask is you get rid of the curved corners and shit; I need ninety-degree corners and level floors, without all the weird geometric lines on them.”  I grinned as he shook his head and continued, “If you cannot erase the lines, I suppose I can cover the deck with a few rugs.”

 **›** _That should not be necessary, Buchanan-Griffen_ … _but be advised : some of the curved corners are a result of proximity to my outer skin_.  _Eliminating all of them would result in a significant reduction in the interior space available for habitation_. **‹**

“ … just _Griff_ , if you will,” Buchanan replied.  “And just … do what you can, Irin … ah, sorry.”  Ears coloring slightly, he glanced at me as he continued, “I have heard Traynor refer to you as _Irin_ …  Is it acceptable for me to call you by that name as well?”

The machine’s voice sounded a bit … amused.  **›** _Griff_.  _Yes, you may refer to me as ‘Irin’, if it will make your stay more comfortable_.  _And, coverings for the decks should not be necessary, unless you simply wish to make the space more_ … _comfortable_ … _warmer_. **‹**

Griff looked at me once more, his expression telling me he had relaxed ever so slightly.  He dismissed me with a nod, saying, “Go ahead, Sammy.  I’ll get my stuff put away.”

* * *

**♦ DELTA WARD, AT LARGE · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Griff and I had traveled in the speeder from Iringù-Eßizkur’s location in Bravo Ward to a small café near the Alliance docks, a safe rendezvous location I had discovered while looking through the old Shadow Broker records.  Still, I decided to exercise an abundance of caution by parking the speeder a full klick away; we walked the remaining distance while employing the cloaking shield generators I had just rebuilt.

Reaching the office block, we pausing by the building’s corner; I looked around carefully; seeing no one close by, I decloaked, prompting Griff to follow my example.  After leading the way inside, I ordering coffee for Griff and a pot of tea for myself before taking a seat at a corner table to wait for Xiùlán.

While we waited, Griff used his fingers, seemingly to scrub sideways across his mouth as he quietly spoke through his hand, “I’m curious, Samantha.  How many people, besides Doctor T’Soni, and perhaps Commander Shepard, know about the apartment?”

I smiled at his clever way of hiding his mouth.  “The only other person I know of is Xiùlán … she visited right after I was granted access.  I don’t believe there’re any others aware of its existence.  The asari businesses on the ground floor are aware the space is above them, but without the software needed to unlock the encrypted haptic interfaces, they cannot access it.  It’s quite secure.”

Griff smiled at that.  “No encryption is unbreakable, Sammy.

Smiling grimly in response, I explained, “The elevator is rigged, Griff.  Should anyone successfully bypass the encrypted lock on the outer access door, the controls inside the car are programmed to recognize _that_ hack as hostile.”  After pausing for a few moments to let that sink in, I continued.  “Once the doors close, the car goes _down_ a level.  The chamber below opens out to a tunnel, which ends out _past_ the Citadel’s kinetic barrier.”

Buchanan’s mouth fell.  “Damn!  That seems to be a really harsh … and lethal penalty, Sam.  Any chance that could happen to me if I mess up when I enter the passcode?”

“The response is only triggered by a hostile entry.  You’d have to seriously … _mess up,_ as you say … the entry codes to provoke such a reaction.”

Griff nodded his understanding, saying, “Thanks.  That makes me feel a helluva lot better … I think.”

Falling silent, he sipped his coffee as we waited … it had been only ten minutes or so, but to me it felt as if an hour had passed when the door finally opened to admit the woman for whom we had been waiting.  Xiùlán smiled as she spotted us and walked up to our table, where she enveloped Griff in a heartfelt hug.  “Buchanan!  It’s really great to see you again!”  After planting a kiss on his cheek, she looked into his eyes as she held onto his shoulders and softly said, “I never got a chance to express my appreciation for keeping Sammy from blowing the both of you up in that warehouse … before the damned war.”  With a quick glance in my direction, she hugged him again, said, “Xièxiè!” [謝謝！– _Thank You!]_ then released him, pulled out a chair and took a seat close to me, as I slid the case I had previously tried to give her to rest beside her booted feet.

Xiùlán was plainly in a hurry—she was nervously looking around when I asked, “So, what’s happening at the Alliance docks that has you so worried, Luv?”

Glancing around again as she shifted around slightly in her chair, she quietly replied, “There’s nothing tangible, Sà mǐ … it’s just a feeling I get … an uncomfortable itch between my shoulder blades whenever I’m outside the ship.  It’s like I’m being watched, and not by anyone working on the docks.  It feels as if it’s coming from outside the perimeter.  I think the source is one of the buildings overlooking the yard.”

I had been Xiùlán’s companion long enough to trust her unreservedly.  If she felt there were unfriendly eyes watching her—or watching the docks where the _Hong Kong_ and _Normandy_ were berthed—that was all the proof I needed.  “Ship leaves when?”

“Day after tomorrow.  We’re laying in supplies for an extended assignment … doesn’t look like we’ll return here for a number of weeks.”

“Do you still have your personal cloaking shield generator?”

“I’m wearing it … used it when I left the ship.”

I reached around behind my back, unlatched my own shield generator and held it out for Xiùlán.  “Take this one, give me yours.”  I quickly stilled the protest I could see forming on my lover’s lips, saying, “Take it, _Qíngrén_ … it looks no different than Alliance standard issue, but the kinetic barrier is twenty percent stronger, and the cloak is more efficient—less chance your form can be detected by a squint hiding in the shadows.”  With a grin I hoped was more modest than snarky, I added, “I managed to make it more efficient without increasing the power draw.  You absolutely _need_ this one.”

Xiùlán was closer to me than anyone, so knew that arguing with me once my mind was made up was totally futile.  She unclipped her own shield generator, set it on the table and picked up the one I was giving her.  Inclining her head towards the one on the table as she latched her new unit into the receptacle on her armor, she asked, “What’ll you do with that one?”

“Modify it … make it better.  I try my damnedest to never throw away electronics … you know that.”  I clipped Xiùlán’s old generator into the socket on my own armor, hidden under the hooded cloak I now wore whenever I was out.

Apparently noticing my custom armor under my cloak, a worried frown momentarily crossed her face as she asked, “You two aren’t going to be actively doing ops, are you?”  A pair of concerned, sable-brown eyes bored accusingly into me as she continued, “Your most recent adventure nearly cost you your life, Sà mǐ.”

I reached for and took her hand.  Squeezing gently, I solemnly replied, “Griff and I don’t intend to go out on _any_ ops, Ai.” [愛 – _Love_ ] 

Xiùlán appeared to be unconvinced.  “Uh-huh.  You forget how well I know you, Sà mǐ…”  Turning her attention to Buchanan, she pointed a finger at him as she said, “I’m going to trust that you will continue to be a restraining influence on her, Griff.  I don’t really believe either of you will be content to simply run ops from inside a damned Reaper, _or_ an apartment in Bravo Ward.  Just … keep each other safe, please.”  With a sigh, she picked up the case I had given her and rose to leave,.

Getting to my own feet, I said, “We’re going to play it safe, Xiùlán … I promise.”  I enveloped her in a tight hug; after giving … and receiving … a very passionate kiss—one that instantly ignited a warm glow in my core—I reluctantly loosened my hold on her just enough to look into her eyes as I whispered, “Keep that device a secret, darling.  It may prove quite useful, particularly if you keep me informed of your whereabouts.  Méiyǒu nǐ de ài wǒ de shēnghuó shì bù wánzhěng de!” [沒有你的愛我的生活是不完整的 – _Without your love my life is incomplete!]_

Xiùlán smiled softly, in that special way that spoke volumes about her feelings for me.  “You need to keep practicing your Mandarin, darling.  And … Wǒ duì nǐ de ài tiānchángdìjiǔ, sà màn shā!”  [我對你的愛天長地久，薩曼莎 - _My love for you is as enduring as the sky and the earth, Samantha!]_   With a nod—accompanied by another whispered “Thanks!” towards Buchanan—she waited for me to drop my hands from her waist, then turned and left the café; this prompted Griff to shake his head as he looked up at me.  “What?”

“My translator only picked up ‘Samantha’ from all that, Sammy.  One would think that, after all these years, our auto-translators would be able to handle Chinese.”

“Mandarin, Griff.  And that particular failing of our language translators is something I hope is _never_ fixed.  It’s worked to our advantage before, and I expect it will again.”  Activating my omnitool, I transferred credits for our beverages to the café’s account and said, “Come on …  Let’s get back.  I need to initiate a search, and you need to begin contacting field agents.”

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, BRAVO WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Having updated every processor, workstation and server related piece of equipment left inside Iringù-Eßizkur, I began using all of it in deadly earnest; I was looking for anything, no matter how insignificant, that might point to clandestine activity in the Petra Nebula … specifically, any indications that slavers had begun operating there.  Of far greater importance to me, I was concentrating significant processing power to an investigation of the Vetus System—particularly the area closest to Elysium and Grissom Academy.

It came as no surprise to discover that Major Kaidan Alenko had stopped at the colony world and stayed less than twenty hours before leaving for the academy.  The surprise came when I learned a virtually nude human female, possessing a surly attitude that went hand-in-hand with her almost total tattoo coverage, had stopped on the planet and stayed for a bit longer than had Alenko.  _Jack …_ _Subject Zero … by whatever name she used, she’s most likely trouble with a capitol ‘T’.  Must have been on the planet to see someone,_ came the thought.

Looking back to Kaidan’s arrival, it was easy to surmise that Jack was ultimately traveling to Grissom as well.  Studying the GPS trace left by each of them, I was able to discover they had traveled to a partially destroyed home on the outskirts of town before leaving for the station.  Zeroing in on the ownership of the house led to another surprise—it had been the home of Rear Admiral Jon Grissom after his retirement in 2160.

Upon a deeper search of the records for that house, I discovered a familial connection to Kahlee Sanders, who had been instrumental in helping Commander Shepard save the remaining biotics students from capture by Cerberus during the war.  I knew Kahlee had been injured during the final battles to save Earth from the Reapers, but assumed she had returned either to the academy or her previous job in Alliance R&D.  It wasn’t clear from the available data if the woman had recovered or was simply laying low on Elysium.  _She must have been living in that house,_ came the thought.  I added a search parameter to the program, tasking the machine to sift through all the people traveling between Elysium and Grissom Station during the past three months.  

While monitoring the Grissom Academy search, I was also searching for any indication that the docking areas reserved for Alliance corvettes and frigates here on the Citadel—specifically, dock Charlie-7, berths Zerø-3 and Zerø-4—were being monitored from outside the perimeter fencing.  The numerous structures located right outside the Alliance controlled and monitored docks and ancillary buildings were high enough to allow clandestine observation of the ships docked there; I initiated a high-speed search of rental and leasing records for the previous eighteen months, in an attempt to discover if anyone with a connection—no matter how tenuous—to the four major merc gangs was now hidden behind the reflective plate glass looking down on the yard.

I knew beyond any doubt the Blue Suns had been dealt a serious financial blow when Shepard’s body had been … retrieved … from the merc group before they could sell her corpse to the Collectors.  Additionally, I had been part of a three-person team that recovered a stolen asari figurine the group was attempting to sell to a rare art collector on Bekenstein; that little adventure had cost them tens of thousands of credits.  My qíngrén had led a squad from the _Hong Kong_ to liberate Miranda Lawson from Suns’ captivity on Earth, and the captain of the _Normandy_ had embarked on an Alliance-backed crusade to eradicate their entire organization from the galaxy; these facts were more than enough to convince me the bastards would want to carefully observe both ships at all times in order to know where they were, where they might be going and what their captains and crew members were doing.

Buchanan provided a welcome break from my search when he moved away from his own terminal to speak with me.  “We still have eyes and ears on Omega Station, Sammy.”  When I didn’t reply, he continued with, “A salarian, name of Jipaw Zilorno.”

 _That_ name got my attention.  “He’s still gathering information?”

Griff nodded once as he glanced at the view screen in front of his haptic interface.  “Apparently, he has been sending data to the Shadow Broker—that would be the server at the far end of the group beside you—and is being paid from the account the previous broker set up to take care of her agents in the field.”  The big man chuckled slightly, adding, “He was surprised to hear from … me.  Seems that any voice-comm made through that…” he pointed to an audio modulator as he was speaking, “ … makes anyone speaking through it, male or female, sound like a really big, hairy-assed, scary-mean nasty monster … not unlike the yahg T’Soni and Shepard eliminated over Hagalaz.”

“So, what did you tell him concerning the long delay since he was last contacted?”

“What you wanted—that he is to double down on gathering everything possible concerning Blue Suns operations in and around Omega Station— _without_ alerting the station’s queen.”

* * *

**♦ APARTMENT IN BRAVO WARD · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Having risen early in order to do my exercises, I was standing in the middle of the large central room in our apartment.  Griff was still asleep, if the orange color of the haptic lock on his door was any sign; I hadn’t invited him to join me, as his exercise regime was based more on building and maintaining muscle, while mine was geared towards maintaining my skills in close quarters hand-to-hand fighting.  Having no desire to disturb him, my efforts to remain quiet had obviously been ineffective; I could sense the difference in air pressure behind me as his door partially opened.

I turned towards the door, hiding my surprise at seeing his nearly nude form.  _Shit, didn’t think he’d be so damned relaxed so soon_ … _he looks really good,_ I thought, even as I realized I was displaying nearly as much bare skin.  I asked, “Griff … did I wake you?”  I had set the large end of my nángùn on the floor; nonchalantly hanging on the staff with both hands, I continued, “You must have heard my feet striking the floor.”

Deciding to continue on, I abruptly picked up my staff and used both hands to spin it in front of my body while inviting him to sit and watch.  “Morning exercises … don’t want to lose my rhythm.  Force of habit, especially since I was released from hospital.  I’m _still_ working through some pain in my hips and ribs.”

I ignored his look of amazement; I was wearing my short, midriff-baring compression top in black with matching shorts that came down to the middle of my thighs.  I had completely forgotten the compression top only consisted of a single, narrow strap across my back and a pair of skinny straps over my shoulders, until he asked, “When did you have that dragon tattooed on your back, Sammy?  It is … large, and … quite striking.”

Having resumed my exercises, I temporarily ignored his question as I swung my nángùn in large, sweeping movements to strike at imaginary foes and block imagined counterstrikes with swift, two-handed parries.  A few of the moves involved the forceful planting of a leading foot—sometimes right, sometimes left—on the wooden floor; this thumping sound was probably what had awakened Griff.  I finished my routine by making several circling leaps while twirling the wooden staff around in front of my body, its rotation marked by a distinct whirring sound as the ends cut through the air.

When I once again placed the larger end of the nángùn on the floor, I said “Thanks for the complement, Griff.  I had it done during my leave in Shanghai—with Xiùlán—before the war.  She has a mirror image on her back, facing left, in several shades of green and gold.”  I reached over my shoulder with my left hand, there to unerringly trace the dragon’s head with a fingertip as I stepped over to the far wall.  After hanging my staff on a pair of hooks, I turned back to face Griff, and continued, “It’s a unique piece of art … with the exception of Xiùlán’s, there are no others like it in the galaxy.  I worked with a Chinese artist, Jiang Mingli, to create the design; the drawings and stencils were destroyed after he finished the applications.”

Pulling my Liǔyè dāo from its ornate scabbard, I held the short sword with the sharpened edge facing away from me, tip level with and between my eyes; I was staring at a point in space past Griff’s head.  I brought my flattened left hand up and placed my palm and extended fingers against the flat of the blade.  My abrupt movement caused Buchanan to start slightly; swinging the sword down and to the right as I dropped my left arm, I paused with my right arm extended straight out to the side, blade tip pointing to the right while I held my left arm out and slightly up in a similar fashion. Suddenly swinging the blade in front of my torso by rapidly folding my right arm at the elbow, I paused yet again, now holding the sword horizontally at shoulder level as I grasped the base of the hilt, left hand below right.

Griff backed away from me as far as he could when I began rapidly moving while sweeping the 95-centimeter long blade back and forth in front of me, mixing one-handed moves with those requiring a two-handed grip; I randomly interspersed these moves with stabbing motions, as if I was attacking—or being attacked by—a number of imaginary foes.  I repeated the entire routine twice more, the thin, polished blade shrieking furiously each time it sliced through the air.  I was soaked in sweat by the time I finished.  Carefully returning the blade to its ornate scabbard, I listened as Griff commented, “It looks as if Xiùlán instructed you quite thoroughly, Sammy.  Both of you always seemed to prefer using blades … in fact, I think you are better with knives and long blades than you are with firearms.  However, I don’t recall _ever_ seeing you use that particular blade.”

Picking up a small towel, I wiped some of the moisture from my face and neck as I replied, “Special gift from Lì húa—Xiùlán’s mom.  Xiùlán gave it to me right after the Spec-Ops program was shut down.  We were staying in the same apartment I shared with you before we were deployed to Arcturus.”  Pausing for a few moments, I looked down at the ornately decorated scabbard, the wood glowing with a soft sheen from my frequent polishing.  Returning my gaze to Griff, I added in a subdued voice, “It’s quite old, but no less deadly for its age.  It’s a Liǔyè dāo—military sidearm for cavalry and infantry during the Chinese Ming and Qing dynasties.  This one weighs just a shade over a kilogram.  I actually used it in anger … once … right after the _Normandy_ was returned from the edge of the galaxy.”  I fell silent again, thinking back to that day, seemingly so long ago.  I continued with a soft sigh, “Relieved Javik of his damned head aboard Žiuk’Durmah, right after he sabotaged the Repository’s power core.  Really surprised ‘im.”

Returning my thoughts to the present and my gaze to Griff, I said, “Anyway, I need to shower and get dressed.”  With a smirk, I made an obvious point of looking the nearly nude man up and down.  “You probably ought to get dressed as well, Mr Buchanan.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to impress me with all those muscles.”  With a light chuckle, I headed for my bedroom as I added, “Impression made.  Twenty minutes or so … then we can have breakfast, check the info feeds.”

* * *

Buchanan shook his head as the door closed behind her; he couldn’t help but marvel at how well developed the woman’s body was.  Her defined abs, rippling back muscles, sculpted, muscular shoulders, arms and legs all spoke to a person, gender be damned, that had honed her body into an exquisitely chiseled, organic machine.   _If she really lost muscle mass while recovering in the hospital, it sure as hell does not show!_  That Sammy had trained unceasingly to transform her body into a nearly unstoppable combat weapon—whether utilizing martial arts with her bare hands and feet, bladed weapons, or whatever she managed to either pick up or confiscate—had never ceased to amaze him; that she was also supremely talented as an expert electronics specialist was the proverbial icing on the cake.  _I could not ask for a better partner,_ he mused while moving to his own room to clean up and get dressed.

* * *

I came out of my bedroom to find Buchanan dressed and eating breakfast at the small table in the kitchen.  Walking past the bulky man to the freezer, I selected a heat‘n’serve cereal dish, unwrapped it and placed it in the small oven.  While it was thawing, I fixed a mug of _Kaffe_ for myself and set it on the table.  At the sight of the mug, Griff remarked, “No tea this morning?”

“I’ll have some later.  Have you looked at the overnight info feeds?”  Taking a couple of sips from the mug, I sighed with pleasure at the taste before setting the mug down as the oven timer chimed. After retrieving my meal, I joined Griff at the table.

Griff spoke softly as I sat down across from him.  “I scanned through the headers … looks like there may be more to the rumors of pirate activity near Elysium than we initially believed; some strange looking vessels have been detected near the relay.  Nothing of any note happening at the colony or at Grissom, but I am still looking.”  Taking a sip of coffee, he added the news that the _Hong Kong_ had departed in the wee hours of the morning.  “I checked the security footage like you asked; ship made no sound as it backed out of the berth, and the lighting was so dim down there it was difficult to see any movement.”

“Almost as if it simply vanished.”

“Exactly!  Funny thing though … within minutes of the ship’s departure, there was a tenfold increase in Blue Suns’ comms activity.”  Griff smiled as he concluded, “Looks as if they have eyes on the docks all the time.  Is there anything we can do to stop them?”

“Soon as I discover which apartment … or apartments … they have operatives in, I’ll pay them an unannounced visit.  I don’t expect we can persuade them to move on, and their landlords certainly ain’t gonna toss them out as long as they’re receiving rent payments every month, so stopping them permanently may prove to be our only option.” 

Buchanan chortled as he observed, “Somehow, your intentions are not surprising, Sammy.  Xiùlán was hoping you would not be doing ground ops again; you are going to _anyway_ , are you not?”

I smiled grimly as I replied, “May not have the luxury of choice in the matter, Griff.”  With a heavy sigh, I finished my cereal, then rose and deposited the empty container in the recycler.  “The Blue Suns cannot be allowed to do anything that would place my _inamorata_ or any of her crew … or the crew of the _Normandy_ … in peril.  It hasn’t even been a full year since all the people of the galaxy managed to eliminate a recurring threat to our very existence … having accomplished that, don’t you think people deserve to live their lives free from being continuously preyed upon by the mercenary bastards?”

When Buchanan didn’t respond, I refilled my mug with the rest of the _Kaffe_ I’d brewed and silently walked out to our lounge area.  The room now held a bit more furniture than when Griff had first visited; there was a long console along one wall, with several comfortable chairs available for use by either partner.  There was also a floor-to-ceiling panel, painted a hideous shade of flat green, placed three meters away from the equipment-laden console; its vertical edges were curved towards the equipment, and it was centered in front of the camera where outgoing transmissions originated.

Part of the equipment I had set up would electronically remove the green backdrop and superimpose a photo montage of Liara’s old quarters, which I had recorded in the _Normandy_ many months ago; the image received by anyone with whom either Griff or myself was speaking would appear to be originating from within the Broker’s previous office.  I had also set up a pair of spotlights that would backlight my hooded form, keeping my face in deep shadow.

I had copied this setup from that which was inside Iringù-Eßizkur; Griff had already employed it for speaking with several of the agents scattered across the galaxy.  After reviewing a couple of the vid-records of Griff’s conversations, I was satisfied that anyone viewing either of them would be convinced the person speaking was the genuine article, and not someone to be trifled with.

I settled into a chair facing the monitor currently scrolling the overnight reports, bottom-to-top, on the display.  After entering a few characters into the haptic keyboard, I tasked the machine—actually installed within Iringù-Eßizkur—with performing a more detailed and methodical search of relay records for traffic entering the Vetus System during the previous forty-five days.  There had been no evidence of slavers entering the nebula, but there _were_ a few reports of strange vessels being sighted in the area closest to Elysium.

I tasked a second machine with investigating activity in the Terminus Systems, with Omega Station and the Vallhallan Threshold the primary focus of my research.  After Zaeed Massani had followed Blue Suns second-in-command Solem Dal’Serah to Susskind Station in the empty, binary star system of Raheel-Leyya, I had gradually become more interested in what seemed to be an increasingly important secondary base of operations for the merc gang.  Sensing that Captain Bill Cody would need every advantage if he was going to tackle them in their own territory, I wanted to have a head-start on the information requests I was sure would be coming, from the Alliance and from Zaeed Massani.

In the meantime, I composed a brief message to Xiùlán, outlining the reports of strange vessel sightings near Elysium.  Loading the message into my secure communicator, I sent it off with a ‘message opened’ request.  With any luck, I would have a response in twelve hours or less.

* * *

 **♦** **LUXURY APARTMENTS AT THE ALLIANCE DOCKS, DELTA WARD** **♦**

Casually strolling past the various shops and stores adjacent to a rather busy travel lane, I was surreptitiously studying several buildings that were home to a number of exclusive apartments on the other side of the boulevard.  My curiosity concerning these luxury abodes had developed immediately upon learning of a massive increase in galaxy-wide communications among members of the Blue Suns, following the departure of the _SSV Hong Kong_ in the early morning hours of the previous day.  _Coincidence?_ I thought.  _Not bloody fuckin’ likely.  The docks … the Normandy and Hong Kong … must be under their observation._  

After listening to Xiùlán’s description of her uneasiness—her feelings of being watched anytime she left the ship—I had done some deep research into the tenant records of the apartments overlooking the berths of the _Hong Kong_ and _Normandy_.  The increased comms reactions to the _Hong Kong’s_ departure was all the confirmation I needed that members of the Blue Suns were actively observing those two frigates, as well as the movements of the officers and crew around both vessels.  After uncovering the identities of those leasing the apartments, I had used all the tools at my disposal to uncover the details of their lives, with an emphasis on employment history and political affiliations.

Of no great surprise, the employment histories of the two people I was most interested in—a turian and a batarian—had been carefully manufactured to appear normal … if arriving on the Citadel with an employment record uninterrupted by the Reaper War could be considered _normal_.

Salo Rac’Maroh’s previous position was listed as a machinist on a batarian light cruiser, prior to the Reaper’s destruction of virtually everything and everyone in the Kite’s Nest, including their warships; it seemed odd to me that Rac’Maroh had been fortunate enough to survive the decimation of the Hegemony’s naval fleet, including the destruction of the _BRV Stygian Star_ , the cruiser on which he had supposedly been posted.

Displaced turian Arius Varangian had somehow managed to survive the Reaper’s decimation of the spaceport serving Sarlik’s southwestern neighborhood; records showed he had been a cargo handler/loader at Varidos Frontier Shipping.  The company _had_ actually existed, at least until the ground on which it stood—along with everything within three square klicks of their docks—had been vaporized by some of the first Reapers to arrive in orbit.  If Varangian _had_ been employed at Varidos, I was unable to uncover a shred of any corroborating evidence.

I was having a difficult time believing that a turian and a batarian—neither of whom had been employed since reaching the Citadel—could afford to live in an abandoned shipping crate, much less the high four-figure-a-month sum needed to pay the cost of leasing any of the luxury apartments near the Alliance docks.  I needed to get inside those buildings … actually see them, as there were no pictures on file to go along with their fictional employment histories.  Once I had them visually identified, I’d work out a plan to get them evicted from their pricy abodes.

A germ of an idea was already forming in my mind as I paused to gaze at the luxury furnishings on display behind the heavy plate ‘glass’ of the store in front of which I had paused.  _I need in those apartments so I can confirm the type of surveillance equipment being used._   I really didn’t believe the turian or the batarian would be sitting in a chair placed in front of a tinted window, watching the docks all day every day … they would have wide-field vid-cams and audio-amplifiers aimed at the docked vessels.  _Hell, Varangian and Rac’Maroh don’t even need to be physically in the apartments except to upload their records to their bosses._

After a short walk, I jogged through a pedestrian tunnel to the other side of the travel lane filled nearly wall-to-wall with speeder traffic.

* * *

 **♦** **APARTMENT 506B · DELTA WARD** **♦**

Having alerted Griff of my intention to get a look inside one of the apartments, I asked him to pull up the building specs and send them to my omnitool so I’d have a clear picture in my mind of the layout before I went in.

 _“I thought you were going to refrain from doing ground ops, Sammy,”_ came the accusation.

My reply sounded a touch snarky, even to me.  “This is just a simple reconnaissance mission, Griff.  I need to see what equipment these guys are using in order to develop effective countermeasures.  Iringù-Eßizkur can float past the docks while she scans the place for organic occupants; soon as I know there’s nobody home, I get in, take a look and get out.  Simple.”

Buchanan tersely replied, _“Maybe in your world, Sammy, but standby … we are on the move.”_

As Griff was still familiarizing himself with the equipment inside the Repository, it took slightly longer for him to provide the data I was looking for.  As he sent the building schematics to my omnitool, he said, _“We just slid by overhead, Sammy.  Iringù-Eßizkur’s scans confirm the turian is not in his apartment … that’s number 506B.”_   After a brief pause, he added, _“A batarian is in Salo Rac’Maroh’s apartment—number 404—but that’s located in the adjacent building, so you should be clear.  Do you need me watching your six?”_

After thinking about it for a few moments, I decided I didn’t want both of us on the ground at the same time.  “Iringù-Eßizkur can monitor me and my surroundings from overhead, Griff.  She can orbit above the ward at a fair altitude and still ‘see’ me.  There’s so many Repositories around the Citadel these days nobody pays much attention to ‘em anymore.”

Buchanan sighed, _“Be careful, Sammy … please?  Do not take any chances in there.”_

Energizing the cloak of my combat shield generator, I responded with, “Stay on the comms, Big Guy.  I’ll be in and out before you know it.”

As exclusive as the apartments in this building were supposed to be, I fully expected that breaching the Haptic locks for the main access doors to the building’s lobby would present a much bigger challenge.  I was thrilled to discover the codes needed for entry were quite simple, compared with what I’d needed to do in order to enter the Blue Suns headquarters to get to Solem Dal’Serah.  The elevators themselves did not even have passcode requirements, and the cameras monitoring the lobby, passageways and the elevator doors were not capable of recording my passage, thanks to my cloaking generator. 

Before boarding the elevator for the ride up to level five, I leaned against the wall next to the door; bending over my omnitool to hide its deep purple glow, I sent a command to all the cameras monitoring the lobby, passageways, stairwells and elevators to cease recording.  I then instructed the security VI to loop the past hour of previously recorded video back into the save files while continuing to increment the time display; this would keep anyone from being able to pinpoint when the elevator was accessed and the door to 506B was unlocked and opened.

After riding an elevator to the top floor, I pressed the HOLD button to lock it out on this level as I called Buchanan.  “I’m on level five, Griff … anything I should be aware of?”

_“There has been no movement, Sammy.  Middle of the day, most of those tenants are at work.”_

Leaving the elevator behind, I cautiously moved towards Varangian’s apartment, grinning at Buchanan’s remark.  I found it hard to believe that anyone living in this building had ever done an honest days’ work in their lives.  Reaching 506B, I crouched in front of the Haptic interface and used my omnitool to probe its intricacies.  Surprisingly, the codes were in no way complicated … I had the door unlocked in less than twelve seconds.

As I was starting to push it open, Buchanan shouted a warning.  _“Traynor!  Stop!”_  Griff’s voice was urgent in my comms.  _“Unlocking that door caused a VI inside to go active,”_ he hissed.  _“Iringù-Eßizkur believes it is weaponized and programmed to target movement at that door.”_

Breathing a silent prayer of thanks for having Iringù-Eßizkur and Griff on overwatch, I asked, “Can she disable it remotely?”

 _“Not possible at this distance, Sammy.  We’re working on acquiring the code that will allow you to do so.  Standby.”_   Buchanan’s voice sounded stressed … it had been a long time since he had done a clandestine job.

“Iringù-Eßizkur …  Any sign of movement up from below?”

 **›** _I can detect no other organics moving in your direction at this time, Shadow Broker_. **‹**

Buchanan’s voice came back on the comm circuit.  _“I found a code for you, Sammy.  Transmitting it now.”_   As my omnitool lit up in response to the alpha-numeric text Griff had sent, he added, _“As to the lack of people in the building, I finally discovered why … it is solely owned by Blue Suns Development, as is the building next to it.  That explains how Varangian and Rac’Maroh can afford to stay in these places … they are not required to pay rent!  They may not even be permanent residents … their leaders probably rotate new bodies in there on a regular basis.”_

“Good to know … means taking either one or both of these mercs down won’t solve the problem of the Suns observing everything on the docks.  Dammit to hell, Griff.  We need to come up with a permanent solution … I’ll not have the bastards constantly monitoring the _Hong Kong_ and _Normandy_ , nor can I allow them the luxury of continuing to watch the comings and goings of their officers and crew.”

Going silent as I remotely logged into the computer controlling all the security VI’s in the building, I entered the code to disable only the one behind _this_ door.  Utilizing the pivot-side of the door frame to shield myself against weapons fire, I shoved hard on the door and quickly withdrew my arm; it swung open, banging to a rebounding stop against a plushly upholstered arm chair.  Taking a deep breath, I rapidly leaned my head and upper torso in and back out of the open doorway; the quick look confirmed the VI was inactive, an extremely rare Geth Pulse Rifle pointed up and to the side.

Thinking, _Where in ‘ell did that thing come from?_  I cautiously entered the large room.  After gently closing and relocking the door, I hugged the walls and circled around to a position behind the deactivated VI.  Activating my omnitool, I recorded the view of the docks from the several large, tinted windows, including the docked _Normandy_ and the empty berth where the _Hong Kong_ had been, along with the several vid-cams and high-gain audio eavesdroppers trained on the area below.  I was inspecting the equipment being used to transmit the saved files to Blue Suns leadership when the unexpected sound of Griff’s voice in my ear startled me enough that I had to ask him to repeat.

_“I said, a turian just entered the building.  He is attempting to access the elevator you locked out.”_

“Shit!  Okay, I’ll take care of it.”  I quickly left the apartment and trotted down the passage to the elevator, reactivating my cloaking generator as I ran.  Reaching into the car, I released the hold placed on it.  As the doors swished closed, I dashed back to the apartment, there to close and latch the door from outside.  Next, I jogged back along the passageway, there to pause a few meters on the far side of the elevator, where I leaned against the wall.  Opening my omnitool, I re-enabled the cameras monitoring the passageway.  While I had my omnitool activated, I added several lines of code to the guard VI’s program instructions before reinitiating its standby mode.  Changing my omnitool to its combat profile, I went to one knee and waited.

In less than thirty seconds, the elevator doors silently parted to reveal a turian I believed to be Arius Varangian; he turned away from my position to saunter down the passageway, where he paused in front of the door I had just closed and latched.  Activating the omnitool on his left wrist, he entered a code to release the lock.  As soon as the Haptic device transitioned from red to green, he casually pushed the door open, entered the apartment, then closed and relocked it behind him.

Standing, I huffed and said, “Dammit, Griff.  Sonovabitch nearly had me in there.”  Moving to the nearby staircase, I disabled the building’s cameras once more, opened the heavy fire-door and started down.  “I’m heading over to Irin’s location, Griff.”

I was nearly to the main floor before Griff responded softly with a question.  _“Think we can we shut them down electronically?”_

A wry chuckle preceded my response.  “I don’t think we’ll need to …  The Blue Suns own those buildings … at least two of their foot soldiers are living there, with who knows how many other members in residence.”  Upon leaving the enclosed staircase and crossing the lobby, I re-enabled the rest of the cameras as soon as I was standing outside.  Walking into a shadowed area, I ensured the deep cowl of my grey cloak was well over my head before disengaging my cloaking generator.

“The Alliance has declared them a terrorist organization, Griff; for a price, I’ll make a deal to send them all my research on those two buildings, along with evidence of the clandestine electronic monitoring they’re doing.  Alliance anti-terrorism group will shut the bastards down, possibly place a permanent prohibition on leasing the top floors to anyone.”

Griff wanted to know, _“What about the floors below?”_

“Ships and docks cannot be adequately observed from those floors … windows are not high enough.”  In only a few minutes, I had reached my speeder.  “Has Iringù-Eßizkur touched down in her parking position?”

_“Her feet are on the ground, Sammy, and I am more than ready to head back to our apartment … you ready to have some dinner with me?”_

Smiling as I powered up the X3M, I responded with, “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”  Thinking, _Hmm … he said our apartment.  Guess he really is going to stay with me._

* * *

 


	6. What Price Element Zero?

_When action grows unprofitable, gather information; when information grows unprofitable, sleep. —_ Ursula K. Le Guin, _The Left Hand of Darkness_

* * *

 ** _Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _‘Erin’_ — Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _‘Iringù-Eßizkur’_  
**_Siame –_** “One who is all”, a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian/Source: CDN)

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR · BRAVO WARD, CITADEL · WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

Admiral Steven Hackett attempted, without much success, to school his expression of dismay at the information with which he’d just been presented by an agent for the Shadow Broker.  Sipping hot coffee from his mug, he studied the image looking at him from the QEC display pad as he asked, _“Are you sure this information is accurate?”_

Buchanan chuckled, knowing the vocal modulator was rendering his speech into something dark and ominous sounding by disguising his voice, adding a flanging quality while making it sound  every bit as deep and bassy as it did for Traynor’s voice – listening to test recordings of Traynor’s modified voice compared to his own revealed no detectable difference; additionally,  his face was completely masked in deep shadows cast by bright backlighting and an oversized hood made of a darkly dyed artificial leather.  “Admiral Hackett.  Realize that the Shadow Broker does _not_ sell erroneous information.  To ever do such would call into question every single bit of data gathered and disseminated to each of our many clients … galaxy-wide.”  Griff paused a moment to allow his declaration to register; pressing on, he said, “There are apartments—owned by an organization the Systems Alliance has declared to be a terrorist enterprise—sitting just beyond and above the docks assigned to _Normandy_ and _Hong Kong_.  Martial Law is still in effect, Admiral.  I cannot believe you need to be reminded that the Blue Suns can be prohibited from allowing anyone to reside in the top floors of those buildings.” 

Hackett replied, _“It doesn’t seem fair to simply toss people out in the streets.”_

Griff lowered his voice slightly. saying  “The only tenants of _any_ of those exclusive, top-floor apartments are Arius Varangian and Salo Rac’Maroh; both are longtime members of the Blue Suns, Admiral.  You would be doing the crews of both frigates an enormous favor by declaring those apartments off limits … unless the Suns would care to have _Alliance_ crew members domiciled there … rent-free.”  Griff chuckled before continuing.   “Currently, the arrival or departure of either ship causes an immediate uptick in communications among the mercs, on this station and galaxy-wide, as they file position reports while the ships transit the relays.  Their destinations are known … and monitored … before they can even arrive.”

Hackett sighed.  _“I see your point.  I will direct our security teams to have access to those floors vacated and sealed.  I am grateful for your diligence in reporting this to me.  Thank you.”_

* * *

 **♦** **OMEGA STATION, SAHRABARIK SYSTEM · OMEGA NEBULA** **♦**

Aria T’Loak stretched languorously.  She was preparing to leave her comfortable bed—along with the fabulous maiden with whom she had spent the previous evening —in order to shower and dress for the day, then slip into Afterlife for breakfast.  She took a close look at the sleeping face beside her and sighed as she brushed her lips across the purple-tinged top crests.  _This one is a skilled lover … physically, at least.  Her mental abilities need honing, but that will come with practice … which I am only too happy to provide._  Placing a final kiss on the young asari’s forehead, Aria slid out from under the sheets to silently pad into her lavish bathroom.

In less than forty minutes, the Pirate Queen had left her private chambers and was enjoying a steaming mug of tea along with a hearty breakfast, the food chosen specifically to replace calories and eezo expended during the intense physical romps she had enjoyed the previous evening.

Having cleaned her plate, Aria was enjoying her second mug of tea as she looked through the station’s financial reports for the previous day, week and month.  She had just taken a sip from her mug when two credit amounts on the page caught her undivided attention, causing her to nearly choke on the hot liquid.  After a small coughing fit to clear her trachea of the misplaced beverage, she forced herself to remain calm—outwardly, at least—as she took another sip of tea, swallowed the mouthful of warm liquid and carefully placed the mug on the table.  Glancing up at her two nearby bodyguards, she said, “Bray?” in a questioning tone.

Her unofficial second-in-command immediately approached Aria’s table; crossing his arms over his chest, he tipped his head to the left for a moment as he responded, “Aria?”

The asari leaned back in her high-backed chair as she placed the ankle of her left leg atop her right knee; glaring at Bray through narrowed eyes, she commanded in a low voice, “You need to discover what in Goddess name has caused the bottom to fall out of the price of eezo – processed, and raw ore.”

Bray always did his best to satisfy Aria’s orders, but felt he needed clarification in this instance.  “May I presume to have your permission to do whatever is needed to obtain results for you?”

Looking up at him from under her scowl, she coldly replied, “I need this done yesterday, Bray.”

The batarian immediately spun on his heel and left.  He had seen that look from Aria before …  Any recipient of _that_ particular gaze needed to produce results … fast.

* * *

**♦ SHADOW BROKER’S APARTMENT, BRAVO WARD · CITADEL ♦**

Apprehension was the first reaction I experienced, just before responding to the incoming Comms call; it was the first one I had received from a reactivated agent.  Buchanan was still tracking down and enlisting the aid of as many former agents as he could reach; this call was from the first agent he had successfully contacted … the salarian Jipaw Zilorno, on Omega Station.

Touching the ACCEPT control on the receiver, I gave what I believed to be the Shadow Broker’s standard response in one word.  “Report.”

The salarian was plainly nervous.  It had been many months since he had needed to personally speak with the Shadow Broker.  Thinking back to a time not so long ago, before the Reaper invasion—before Liara and Rachaél had killed the yahg that was the Broker at the time—I remembered paying a personal visit to the Broker’s salarian agent on Omega Station.  I had been searching for an exceedingly rare asari figurine, stolen by pirates and sold to the Blue Suns.  Thinking about this, I was only half-listening to the salarian’s report; I would replay and listen to the full recording after he was done.

Before signing off, I ordered Zilorno to continue gathering details concerning Aria T’Loak’s sudden interest in the price of Element Zero.  After carefully listening to his report once again, I placed the saved recording in a newly created file on the server; I recalled that, after being forced to eject Žiuk’Durmah’s core before Javik’s rogue code could destroy him, I had requested that Harbinger begin recovering the refined eezo spilled from the broken cores of disabled warships and Reapers alike.  I expected _that_ portion of the recovery was still ongoing above Earth and in the skies of every other planet that had seen ship-to-ship combat; besides Earth, the greatest numbers of destroyed ships and dead Reapers were in orbit about Palaven, with a lesser number above Tuchanka, Thessia, and the industrialized colony worlds.

I had never expected the recovered material to be marketed; Zilorno’s report of crashing prices seemed to indicate a substantial amount of the element must have found its way into the legitimate markets.  Someone—or a number of someones—was making a shit-load of credits, selling fraudulently obtained or stolen eezo primarily through energy traders and brokers on Illium; the results of a suddenly abundant supply of processed eezo—available for only the cost of shipping it—was depressing legitimate wholesale and retail prices.

I could just imagine how this would affect Omega’s Pirate Queen.  Aria had her blue fingers in _every_ illegal activity on the station; _nothing_ happened on _her_ station that was too unimportant to garner her attention.  Unfortunately, the legitimate sale of Omega Station’s refined eezo was the prime mover of the station’s entire economy.  Additionally, the prices for raw, unprocessed ore recovered from the asteroid’s interior had collapsed, as no one wished to pay the queen’s asking price when the cost of processing it now exceeded the amount that could be earned from its sale.

The prospect of a galaxy-wide eezo trade war prompted me to set a third server to work.   I also needed to compile a list of any non-Repository organizations recovering the processed stuff spilled during combat _._   After initiating the search program, I placed an urgent, secure call to the _Normandy_.  As the Shadow Broker, it would be my first official conversation with an Alliance representative.

In only a few moments, Yeoman Coleen Pruitt’s image materialized above the miniaturized display platform adjacent to my work station.  _“This is Yeoman Pruitt of the SSV Normandy.  To whom am I speaking, please?”_

Speaking slowly—and enunciating each word carefully—I replied, “This is the Shadow Broker.  I have important information for your captain.”  Trusting that the shadowlike image of my face was being rendered unrecognizable by the hooded cloak and severe backlighting, along with the vocal modulator rendering the sound … the timbre … of my voice as deeply powerful and evil as the Broker’s voice had always sounded, I waited to see how Pruitt would respond.

Despite looking nervous, she had the audacity to ask, _“May I relay the subject of this call to him?”_

“You may not!”  I thundered in reply.  As much as I had liked Coleen when still on the ship, I intended to establish right up front that the Broker was not to be questioned by a lowly non-com.  “You are wasting my valuable time, Yeoman, not to mention the credits I am billing the Alliance!”

I watched in silent amusement as Coleen’s face blanched at the harshness of the Broker’s response to her question.  With a meek, _“Right away, Sir,”_ her image disappeared as she hurriedly left to personally track down Bill Cody, leaving me to wait while trying to arrest a chuckle at being called, ‘Sir’.  _The vocal modulator really does make a difference!_

When Cody’s image appeared after several minutes, the irritated expression on his face was more than worth my wait.  _“I don’t give a damn how important_ … _”_

I was more than ready for him and pounced, shouting, “Silence!  Do not presume to address the Shadow Broker as if he was some fucking bilge rat on the _Normandy’s_ crew, _Captain_ Cody!  I did not contact your ship to bandy words about with one of your subordinates; my time is much too valuable to waste standing by while you are tracked down in order for me to speak with you!”  I had to bite my lip to keep from snickering at Cody’s increasing expression of disbelief … and anger … at the way I was dressing him down.  “You may rest assured the Alliance _will_ be billed for the additional time I was required to spend staring at an empty screen.”

 _“Shadow Broker you may now be, but I have not forgotten your true identity,”_ came the terse response.  _“I don’t answer to you, no matter how important you think you may be.”_

 _Of course you haven’t forgotten,_ came the thought as I replied in a lower, deadlier tone of voice.  “Then you would be wise to also remember that, should I so desire, I can have your miserable existence terminated with little more than a thought, and you would never see it coming.”  Pausing to wait for a rejoinder to that little bon mot, I continued when none was forthcoming.  “I have valuable information for you, but I think now that I should sell it to an organization that will display more … gratitude … _and_ provide me with more credits.  Eclipse?  The Blue Suns, perhaps?”

It was easy for me to see Cody’s expression harden further as his face took on a reddish hue.  _“My apologies, Shadow Broker_ … _”_ he ground out, his jaw clenched in barely controlled anger.   _“By all means, please tell me what you have.”_

Grinning inwardly at his emphasis on my new title, I declared, “Aria T’Loak has become extremely interested in the price of Element Zero; the retail price is falling at an accelerating rate.  The Reapers have been retrieving and storing loose eezo from orbit about Earth, Palaven and other planets; additionally, they are salvaging the eezo cores from derelict Reapers, many of which are in failing orbits, thus in imminent danger of falling into the atmosphere and crashing to the surface of the planets over which they now orbit.”

Cody had calmed down slightly as he listened to me.  _“I do not see how any of this is a problem in which I should involve myself or this ship.”_

“Quite simply, Captain, the recovered material was never intended to be sold.  There is a very large amount currently sited near the Citadel.  Refined eezo, such as has been recovered, has suddenly become available for sale on the commodities market, primarily on Illium.”  I paused for a moment to glance at the now flashing search terminal, which had results I needed to study.

Continuing in an even voice, I said, “These sales can only be possible if the material has been looted from the recovered stockpile in the Widow System, or alternatively, if it has been stolen or illegally recovered from planetary orbit.  The source matters not.  The instability created in the legitimate markets _does_ matter.  Omega Station in the Sahrabarik System has historically been the primary source for refined eezo used in starship mass effect drives.”

Cody took the opportunity to jump in when I paused.  _“Is there a point to all of this … Broker?”_

With a small chuckle I replied, “Your impatience is appreciated, Captain Cody.  The point is this: Aria T’Loak has noticed the precipitous decline in the revenue she receives for the sale of refined eezo, and she is currently unable to sell the unprocessed ore … at _any_ price.  She _does_ possess numerous warships, left behind when Commander Shepard assisted her in removing Cerberus forces from the station … what you need to understand is that she will _not_ hesitate to employ said warships against civilian targets in defense of the suddenly non-exclusive market for her product.”

Cody’s next question was tinged with amazement.  _“She would target citizens allied with the Alliance over this?  What the hell is she thinking?”_

“She believes the standard of living enjoyed by the citizens of Omega Station is being negatively affected by this development, Captain.  Understand …  Aria T’Loak believes Omega’s domination of the galactic trade in eezo is under attack, just as surely as if a fleet of warships was firing on the station.  The further the price falls—particularly because the material being offered for sale is low-cost or no-cost salvage—the more inclined she will be to lash out at those sellers.”

_“Are you suggesting the Alliance needs to use force to keep Omega’s queen in check?”_

I chuckled mirthlessly, knowing the modulator would transform the sound of my laughter into something exceedingly sinister.  “I am suggesting no such thing, Captain.  Instead of open conflict, this problem can more easily be resolved by persuading Aria to lend physical support to the recovery efforts.  Many of the destroyed Reaper constructs and Allied warships are in unstable orbits about the planets over which they were fighting; most are in imminent danger of falling from orbit.  Atmospheric friction would cause the structural break-up of already damaged vessels, thus exposing their cores and spreading eezo particles and dust across a wide swath of land and water below.”

I intensified my voice to get my point across.  “The smaller constructs destroyed on the ground are themselves an environmental disaster, just waiting for people ignorant of proper handling methods to unleash massive amounts of eezo across the landscape; what will become of people beneath the reentry paths of a large number of massive constructs and warships disintegrating as a result of an uncontrolled reentry into each planet’s atmosphere?”

The full realization of the Shadow Broker’s assessment caused Cody’s expression to grow solemn as he softly replied. _“A lot of people would contract cancerous tumors.  It would be an ecological disaster on an unprecedented scale … on Earth … on Palaven … hell, all of the council affiliated worlds and colonies, just as they are beginning to actually recover from the effects of the war.”_

“It is good to know you have gained an understanding of the seriousness of these circumstances, Captain,” I replied.  “I believe there are a sufficient number of Reapers to effectively monitor the situation.  As declared by the Citadel Council and the Systems Alliance, Martial Law is still in effect; it would not be out of line for the Alliance to confiscate any vessel and detain their crews if they are caught in the unauthorized recovery of eezo. Those found to be stealing eezo for a quick sale should be imprisoned and their vessels impounded for auction.”

_“That’s just a bit harsh, don’t you think?”_

“Deal with those problems however you see fit, Captain, but know this: making an example of two or three of those caught stealing would send a powerful message to any others thinking of continuing their own thefts.  The Systems Alliance absolutely cannot afford to be seen as a cowardly or indecisive pushover in this matter.  Send the message, and convince the asari, salarians and turians to follow your lead.”

Terminating the connection before Cody could respond, I knew the Alliance would never allow a captain to simply destroy a private, unaffiliated vessel, merely because it might be in the business of stealing or illegally retrieving eezo.  _I sometimes think having the batarians run the Alliance’s enforcement division would be better for everyone,_ came the thought as I played back the conversation.  _Cody will not be able to do as I suggested without getting approval from Admiral Hackett, who appears to have misplaced his balls_ … _It will be interesting to see what develops._

I studied the results of my search for the organizations recovering processed eezo; as expected, the list was quite short.  Of some surprise however, one group that seemed to be profiting from the sale of illegally obtained eezo, while based on Illium, had a substantial presence on Omega Station; I needed to get this information to the Queen.  Activating my omnitool, I contacted Buchanan, who had been staying inside Iringù-Eßizkur while working to locate agents.  As soon as he answered, I said, “I need you to contact Jipaw Zilorno on Omega Station.”

* * *

 **♦** **OMEGA STATION, SAHRABARIK SYSTEM · OMEGA NEBULA** **♦**

It had been only two days since Aria had tasked Bray with learning the cause of the precipitous decline in the retail price of refined eezo; he had been summoned to her private residence below the promenade in front of her nightclub, Afterlife.  The batarian bodyguard and enforcer wasn’t happy, as the news he had for her was less than golden.

Standing in front of Omega’s queen, he crossed his arms over his chest and set the majority of his weight back on his left leg.  “There are several reasons for the decline in eezo prices, Aria; the primary reason being the recovery of material spilled from the mass effect cores of destroyed warships belonging to the Earth Alliance and Turian Hierarchy.  There is also the material being recovered from the destroyed Reapers above Earth, Palaven and other worlds.”

“They’re selling it?”  Aria scowled in disbelief.  “What the fuck are they thinking?”

“Officially, it’s being stored; the Alliance has not placed any of it on the market, nor do they intend to do so.”  Bray referred briefly to a datapad, before handing it to his boss.  “The recovered eezo is earmarked for the replacement ships currently beginning construction at Arcturus. Unfortunately, there are numerous third parties at work out there.  Some are illegally retrieving material from those same sources—there are many hundreds of destroyed vessels in orbit around a number of planets, and the remnants of the Alliance and Turian Navies are stretched too thin to adequately guard everything from being clandestinely plundered.”

“You said material was being stored?  And remnants, Bray?”

“The Reaper War took a tremendous toll on Alliance warships, Aria.  The Second Fleet was completely destroyed at Arcturus and the Fourth Fleet was totally destroyed over Earth.  As for the eezo being stored, it’s parked out of the shipping lanes … the majority of it is stored near the Widow relay.  It’s a huge amount—probably enough to power several mass relays, with the stockpile growing larger by the day—recovered by the big Reapers from the shattered hulls of their own brethren.  Bits from that horde are being stolen as well,” he replied.  “There is no organized intent to force the prices down, Aria.  It’s simple profiteering, being carried out by a small number of unscrupulous individuals … and a couple of merc gangs.”

Aria frowned as she studied the data on Bray’s device.  “Eclipse?  Right here on Omega?  Right under my fucking nose?”  Her violet eyes, darkening in barely contained anger, bored into Bray like a pair of lasers.  “They wouldn’t dare!”

Bray chuckled, causing Aria’s scowling frown to deepen.  “Oh, but they would, Aria.  They were not high on my list of suspects until I spoke with the Shadow Broker’s agent here on the station.”

“Wait!  The Shadow Broker is involved now?  What the fuck, Bray?  Has the entire galaxy gone stark raving mad?”

The batarian was quick to reply.  “Mad, Aria?  No.  But you told me to do what was needed, so I reached out to some old contacts … from before the Reaper War.  This agent has been on Omega since before Sovereign.  He told me the Broker was already gathering information on these illegal eezo sales and offered to sell me the data at a discount.”  Bray paused for a moment, then added, “I did some more nosing around, and the intel I purchased is solid.  Eclipse is stealing and moving large quantities of eezo.”

Aria was not convinced.  “Eclipse?  I thought they were all wiped out during the war.  I know they still have a presence here on the station, but it’s quite disorganized … they don’t even have a leader.  Archangel managed to put a high-velocity AP round through Jaroth’s head shortly before disappearing, and Jona Sederis was killed when the Reapers moved the Citadel to Earth.”

Bray responded with a snort of derision, saying, “Sederis seemingly escaped from lockup, apparently amidst all the confusion during the Citadel’s relocation to Earth by the Reapers … a body was never found.  I’m still attempting to confirm the rumor that she has taken up residence on Illium, probably in Nos Aedelos.  The Eclipse was very much involved with the trade in mechs, and Nos Aedelos is the base of Hahne-Kedar’s planetary operations there.”

Aria leaned back, thinking about everything she’d just learned.  When she finally spoke again, she quietly asked, “Do you have any suggestions for me, Bray?  There has to be some means of dealing with this problem before the market goes completely down the shitter.”

Aria’s attitude had changed drastically—and for the better, in Bray’s view—ever since Commander Shepard had assisted her in kicking Cerberus off the station during the latter stages of the Reaper War.  Still, the batarian replied to her question in a cautious tone of voice.  “You possess a small fleet of very capable frigates and destroyers, along with a number of F-61’s, courtesy of the Illusive Man and Cerberus.  Reach out to Spectre Shepard, Aria … offer your assistance.  I can think of no one with a greater stake in seeing this problem resolved, and I expect the Alliance would welcome your participation.”

Aria chortled at the mental image brought about by Bray’s words.  “Rumor has it Shepard is alive and living the good life on Thessia with her prim and proper archeologist bride.  I’ve even heard she’s planning to resign her commission in the Alliance … retire from their Navy in order to accompany Liara on expeditions to those moldy old Prothean sites she loves traipsing around in.”

“Would you like me to make an attempt at contacting her?”

Aria thought about Bray’s question for several moments before replying, “Do it, quietly and quickly.  This situation is costing Omega a fortune.  We need to stop the hemorrhaging, fast.” 

* * *

**♦ T’SONI ESTATE, THESSIA · PARNITHA SYSTEM, ATHENA NEBULA ♦**

Rachaél Shepard was sitting in front of one of several terminals in the secure communications room near the suite she shared with her _siame_.  After downloading and glancing through the messages addressed to her, she started to shut down and secure the terminal when it trilled a warning that a high-priority request for a live communication was being received.  Looking at the identity of the sender nearly caused her to reject it out of hand … the last person in the galaxy she wished to speak with was Aria T’Loak.

After mulling it over for a few moments, she heaved a resigned sigh and touched the ACCEPT control on the haptic interface.  Of great surprise, the image that resolved itself in front of her was not Aria, but Bray, her batarian bodyguard, who greeted her in a quiet voice.  _“Commander Shepard._ _It has been some time since we have spoken.  May I inquire as to the state of your health?”_

Rachaél actually smiled in return.  “Bray.  I’m well, and I’m glad to see you survived the war.  Oh, and it’s ‘Captain’ now.  What can I do for you?”

 _“Aria asked me to contact you_ … _and Lady T’Soni.  She wishes to provide assistance to the Alliance—in the form of warships and fighter craft—to eliminate the illegal recovery and sale of Element Zero that is threatening to collapse prices galaxy-wide.”_

Shepard was intrigued.  “Couldn’t she … or you, contact the Alliance direct?  Why involve me?”

Bray chuckled as he tilted his head slightly to the left.  _“She trusts you, Shepard_ … _as much as she trusts anyone not directly under her thumb.  She realizes you may be leaving the Alliance, but also knows you remain a Spectre, so would rather deal with you and T’Soni than some mid-level bureaucrat in the Systems Alliance Military.”_

“While I truly appreciate her vote of confidence, I’m really not sure what she expects me to do.  I _can_ contact Admiral Hackett, ask him to look into the matter.”

Bray continued to smile, saying, _“Aria knows you have a great deal of influence with Alliance top brass, Spectre.  This problem exists on a regional basis_ … _so far.  But make no mistake, Shepard.  If something isn’t done_ … _and soon_ … _to get this situation under control, there will be more trouble in the Sahrabarik System than there ever was when Cerberus controlled Omega.”_   Bray finished with, _“We’ll be waiting to hear back from you, Spectre,”_ and severed the connection.

* * *

**♦ SHADOW BROKER’S APARTMENT, BRAVO WARD · CITADEL ♦**

I was enjoying my second mug of _Kaffe_ after having breakfast; Buchanan was sitting at the table to my left, sipping coffee from his mug.  He appeared lost in thought, to the point I nudged his knee with my own and said, “What’s up, Griff?  You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

Greenish-grey eyes flicked to the right.  He must have noticed the concern in my expression; setting the mug gently on the table, he sighed heavily as he replied, “Just thinking about where we have been, you and me.”

I compressed my lips in a straight line, with the exception of the corners, which I could not keep from turning up ever so slightly.  “Any place in particular?”

“Humph … Cartagena Station.”  He grimaced as he said the name of the place.

My own mouth fell open in surprise.  “Are you havin’ a laugh?  Why ever would you be thinking about _that_ hell hole?”

“You will probably think me crazy, Sammy.”  He waited for a rejoinder—when I continued to silently study his face, he quietly said, “I was just … reminiscing, trying to picture in my mind how you single-handedly managed to get Xiùlán and me out of there, despite every damned squint on the station standing against us.  I do not think I will ever be able to forget how you moved … how you left over fifteen dock workers unconscious, dying or dead in less than two minutes.”

“What can I say, Griff?  I was extremely motivated.”  I drank the last of my _Kaffe_ and rose from the chair.  Taking the mug and my dishes into the small kitchen, I washed and dried everything, then put it all away before rejoining Buchanan.  He looked up at me as I came to stand behind him; laying my hands on his shoulders and squeezing lightly, I said, “Both of you were injured … Xiùlán critically so.  I was not about to let them capture or kill us.”  With a final squeeze on his shoulders, I dropped my hands and moved past him, saying, “Come on, Big Guy … we have a lot more work to do.”

I was just walking past my secure comms terminal when it trilled to announce a private, incoming message.  After a quick glance at the ident header, I smiled and pressed the ACCEPT control.  The image that resolved before me was of Liara T’Soni and Rachaél Shepard.  Taking a seat in front of the viewer, I greeted them both.  “Lady T’Soni … Spectre Shepard … to what do I owe the pleasure this morning?”

Liara spoke first, placing a bit of emphasis on my new title.   _“ Shadow Broker.  I am given to understand you have been rather busy with rebuilding the network.”_  Glancing past my shoulder, she asked, _“And who might your companion be?”_

Quickly looking around then back, I motioned for Griff to sit beside me as I chuckled in reply, “This big fellow is my former squad mate—the man I spoke of during our first discussion about me taking over this job—from my days in the Alliance Ø7 program, Griffen Buchanan.  Griff, this is …”

Buchanan quietly interrupted me, saying, “Dr Liara T’Soni … and Spectre Rachaél Shepard.  An honor to finally meet you.”  With a broad grin, he added, “Sammy has told me much about you both.”

Rachaél nodded as Liara said, _“The pleasure is ours, Mr Buchanan.  It is a relief for me to know that Ms Traynor was able to convince you to join her; good to know she isn’t totally alone, either in the apartment or within Iringù-Eßizkur.”_

Griff glanced at me as he replied, “I love Samantha as much as if she was my own sister, Ma’am.  I owe her my life.”

I blushed and grinned as I gazed at the big man beside me.  “Griff’s been doing a great job, getting in touch with all the field agents … those that survived the war, anyway.  And, he’s been learning how to set up and use the equipment … covered my six a few days ago while I was ashore, investigating the Blue Suns.”  I inadvertently allowed a shadow to cross my face as I returned my gaze to the vidscreen and asked, “Calling to check up on me, Ma’am?”

Shepard was quick to reply.  _“Not at all, Ms Traynor_ … _not at all.  We received a call from Omega Station – Aria’s body guard and number two, Bray.  He was offering the assistance of the queen’s warships in stopping whomever is illegally recovering or stealing reclaimed eezo and selling it on the open market.”_   Shepard glanced at Liara before continuing, _“It’s driving down the retail prices for legitimate sources_ … _”_

I interrupted, “Like Omega’s, Spectre?”  With a soft chuckle, I continued, “That Aria is reaching out to you and Lady Liara is a direct result of the information we sold to Bray through our agent on Omega.  Retail prices for refined eezo _are_ going down the proverbial pyjak hole, and _that_ is causing a great deal of harm to the legitimate markets.  It was your … umm, well, my agent … on Omega, that first alerted us to the problem.”

Liara nodded in understanding.  _“It would seem that you are the right person for the job, Ms Traynor.  I am really sorry you felt it necessary to abandon your Navy career in order to take on the mantle of the Shadow Broker.”_

“Don’t be silly,” I replied softly.  “It was for the best, Liara.  I could not be an effective info broker if I still had to answer to the Alliance chain of command.  My only real problem right now is my former captain.”

 _“Cody?”_ Shepard asked, raising her eyebrows.

I couldn’t stop the smirking expression on my face as I replied, “He still thinks of me as _Specialist Traynor_ … I had to remind him in no uncertain terms the person he is now dealing with will not be treated or spoken to like some miserable bilge rat.”  After a pause, I added, “I don’t think he’ll make that mistake again.”

Shepard laughed at that statement.  _“I believe you have found your true calling, Ms Traynor.”_   Rachaél paused for a moment before continuing.  _“There were rumors during the war that the Broker—meaning Liara—had gone soft.  The Broker’s promises of violent retribution were not being followed through on. I expect you’ll personally back up any threats you make_ … _am I correct?”_

“Only if I have to, Spectre.  Some of the agents Buchanan has been contacting were contract enforcers for the Broker previous to Liara … I believe one of the pre-spaceflight terms for them is _leg-breakers_.  I would prefer to refrain from having to do enforcement or wet work in the future, but if it comes down to it, I certainly won’t shy away from it.”

Shepard chuckled in return. _“Understood.”_   After a brief pause and a glance at her bride, Rachaél looked straight at the screen and said, _“Okay, Shadow Broker.  I will contact the Alliance brass—probably Admiral Hackett—and relay Aria’s offer of assistance.  I may even suggest that Harbinger move the stockpile of recovered, refined eezo from Widow to Sahrabarik, where Aria can provide better security.”_

I smiled in response as I said, “That would be wonderful, Spectre.  The only reason the Repository-recovered eezo was stored near the Citadel was for convenience, as Tali’Zorah and I were working to restore Žiuk’Durmah’s source of power.”  Nodding my head, I added, “Congratulations on your bonding, Rachaél … and Liara.  I’m truly sorry I was unable to be there for the ceremony.  Perhaps I’ll come see you next time I have a couple of days to myself.”

Liara beamed, saying, _“You_ … _and Xiùlán, of course_ … _are more than welcome to visit, anytime.  It’s been wonderful chatting with you_ … _Shadow Broker.  Please_ … _stay safe, both of you.”_

Sammy’s view of the pair faded to black as they terminated the connection.

* * *

 **♦** **SSV HONG KONG · NEAR ELYSIUM, VETUS SYSTEM · PETRA NEBULA** **♦**

“Long-range sensors just got a hit, Captain.  Too far out for a positive ident, but preliminary analysis indicates a small vessel, no larger than an escort corvette.  Just cleared the relay … on course for Joppa, probably to discharge its drive core.”  Lieutenant Jack Cross looked up at the woman standing on the platform at the rear of the projection well for the galaxy map, currently set to display the planetary system in which the _Hong Kong_ was operating.  “Location is marked on the system map for you, Ma’am.”

Captain Yuán Xiùlán nodded in acknowledgement as she replied, “Thank you, Lieutenant.”  She studied the relative distance of Joppa from Elysium before turning her attention to the bright, red dots representing the other three vessels—affiliation unknown—that had entered the system after the _Hong Kong’s_ arrival.  In addition to what now consisted of four unknowns near the hydrogen-helium planet, there was an additional vessel Specialist Lawson had identified as a Blue Suns corvette.  Xiùlán glanced at Miranda as she queried, “Any luck in identifying our four visitors, Ms Lawson?”

“All four are on the far side of Vetus, Ma’am,” replied the specialist.  “Interference from the star’s magnetosphere is affecting long-range scans.”

“Based on their mass and energy signatures, do they match the corvette we have identified?”

Miranda, continuing to scan the four vessels despite the interference caused by the star, replied, “They all _seem_ to match each other, Ma’am.”  The former Cerberus agent, continuing to analyze the results of her long-range scans, added, “Based on the very limited readings we’ve been able to gather, each possesses a mass that is no greater than the corvette we’ve already identified.”

Lieutenant Cross glanced over Miranda’s shoulder, then addressed Yuán.  “Captain, all four are in orbit around Joppa’s northern hemisphere; perhaps if we repositioned the ship above the galactic plane?”

Xiùlán studied the graphic display of the system spread out before her.  Touching a control on her display console, she caused the apparent viewpoint to shift from 90 degrees above to an angle 10 degrees above the system’s orbital plane; this skimmed across the planetary orbital disk.  After studying the system from this new perspective, she touched another control and spoke, seeming to address the air above her.  “Asharru.  Please reposition to 1.2 million kilometers positive _zed_ , then scan and identify the four ships orbiting Joppa.”

After waiting a few moments, the ancient voice of the _Hong Kong’s_ self-appointed Guardian Repository replied, **›** _Repositioning as requested, Yuán-Captain_.  _Standby for scan results_. **‹**

Xiùlán watched the display as an image—a blue dot, actually—appeared and seemed to detach itself from the graphic depiction of the _Hong Kong;_ it rose rapidly as Asharru accelerated, leaving a computer-generated trail of tiny blue dots depicting its path.  After 20 seconds, the apparent motion visibly slowed, then halted.  The cold, metallic voice stated, **›** _Scannin g_ … _standby_. **‹**

Miranda suddenly began entering instructions on her terminal as data from the destroyer-class Repository started streaming into her comms array.  In less than ten minutes, Asharru had stopped sending data and was returning to a position alongside the _Hong Kong_.  Miranda cleared her throat and quietly spoke with Lieutenant Cross for several moments; returning her attention to Yuán, she said, “Captain, the four vessels orbiting Joppa appear to be turian-designed corvettes.  The scans indicate all were formerly registered under Cerberus ownership.”

Xiùlán expressed a look of shock at this information.  “Turian, you say.  I didn’t think Harper would have anything to do with alien tech, no matter its superiority to equivalently designed and constructed human vessels.”

Miranda looked at her captain with the slightest hint of a smirk in her grin.  “Jack Harper always figured he could take any ship, from any source, and improve on its design, Ma’am … make it better, more efficient.  Case in point, the _Normandy SR-2_.”

Xiùlán replied with a taut smile.  “If anyone here would know Jack’s thinking back then, it would be you, Miranda.”  Her smile shifted to a slight frown as she asked, “This may be wishful thinking, but does the data happen to include the launch dates?  Maybe where they were constructed?”

“Actually …”  Miranda paused as she scrolled through the specifications; pausing at the section she wanted to inspect, she continued as she read, “… all of them were constructed prior to the battle with Sovereign and Saren at the Citadel.  The designs may be turian, but Cord-Hislop manufactured all four of them … probably built the one orbiting Sidon as well.”  As Miranda continued looking through the data collected by Asharru, she added, “Their armor is consistent with design standards of ten to fifteen years ago, as is their weaponry, which appears to only be defensive in nature.”

“Has our presence been detected … by any of them?”

Lieutenant Cross answered, saying, “Indications are that none of the five are aware of us, Captain.”

 **›** _Yuán-Captain_.  _I am projecting a dampening field that deflects any scans directed at our location_.  _The vessels at Joppa and the vessel at Sidon are unable to detect my structure, nor are they able to detect frigate-Hong Kong_. **‹**

Xiùlán grinned as she shifted her attention between Cross and Lawson while listening to the Repository.  The tone of Asharru’s metallic voice sounded somewhat … self-satisfied … smug, even.  Thinking it best to not comment on this, she simply replied, “Thank you, Asharru.”  Fixing her gaze on Miranda, she said, “Continue studying the specs on those ships, Specialist … see if there’s anything else you can learn about them.  I’m going to my quarters for a few minutes … I need a short break.  Lieutenant Cross, you have the ship.”

Receiving verbal acknowledgements from Cross and Lawson, Xiùlán stepped off the raised platform, walked through the port side hatch and down the stairs to Deck Two.  Pausing in the galley long enough to retrieve a fresh mug of tea, she went to her quarters; once inside, she brought out the secure comms device given to her by Samantha Traynor.  With the unit powered on, she trans-copied all the collected data concerning the five ships in the system.  Once that was done, she initiated the transmitter section and sent everything to the pre-programmed destination; the microburst of data was on its way in a matter of seconds.

After securing the device and placing it in her storage locker, she sat behind her desk, leaned back in her chair and placed the heels of her boots on the edge.  Taking a sip of tea, she gave silent thanks to her ancestors that Sammy had sent her a warning about these vessels.  Xiùlán wondered what Sammy would make of the contents of the message she had just sent.  _Just another challenge for her,_ came the thought.  _Hope she can give me some feedback without too much delay._

* * *

 **♦** **NOS AEDELOS, ILLIUM · TASALE SYSTEM, CRESCENT NEBULA** **♦**

Jona Sederis shut down the data terminal and let out a small, self-satisfied chuckle—which quickly morphed into an extended coughing fit.  Upon regaining control of her spasming diaphragm, she used a tissue to wipe the small amount of mucus from the corners of her disfigured mouth.

The crazed asari, once one of the most feared leaders of any of the galaxy’s mercenary gangs, had been reduced to a half-cripple, unable to do anything without suffering sometimes intense physical pain.  While it was true that she had escaped confinement on the Citadel, that escape had only been facilitated by the numerous explosions on the station; one such had shattered the structure of the wing where those judged to be criminally insane—like Sederis—were confined.

In order to make her escape, she had been forced to run through sheets of chemically-fueled flames so intense her biotic barrier could not protect her.  She had suffered numerous burns—some severe enough to burn the skin from her body—along with damage to her lungs from inhaling the toxic fumes and superheated smoke.  Worse—to her mind, anyway—her crest had been severely burned; the top of her head now looked not unlike that of a turian female; this, along with the burns to her face, had utterly destroyed whatever beauty she had possessed.  An unfortunate side-effect from her many injuries was that she no longer possessed the strength to utilize her biotics, even defensively.  She had quickly discovered the mental strain of erecting a simple barrier was more than enough to put her on her knees, gasping for breath.

Even though she had chosen to live as a recluse, she was still able to direct the Eclipse; the group’s latest foray into the commodities market had turned out to be quite profitable.  Sederis wasn’t personally concerned about profiting from the sale of illegally recovered eezo; what had her chuckling was that Eclipse was hurting Aria T’Loak.  Sederis had discovered Aria’s weakness and intended to exploit it for every last credit she could.

* * *

 


	7. A Gathering Blue Storm

_Knowledge is a weapon.  I intend to be formidably armed. —_ Terry Goodkind

* * *

 ** _CIC_** – Combat Information Center  
**_Inamorata_** – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)  
**_Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _‘Erin’_ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _‘Iringù-Eßizkur’  
_ ** _Qíngrén_** – [情人 – lover]

* * *

**♦ SHADOW BROKER’S RESIDENCE · BRAVO WARD, CITADEL ♦**

After I spoke with Spectre Shepard and Doctor T’Soni to request Shepard’s assistance, Griff had spent the rest of the morning and part of the early afternoon searching for non-violent options to address the problems triggered by sales of illegally obtained Element Zero.  We were both counting on Spectre Shepard’s promise to speak with Admiral Hackett; the hope being he could persuade Aria T’Loak to commit a portion of Omega’s fleet of warships to monitor the stockpiles of loose eezo, particularly the large amount of recovered eezo sitting near the Widow relay.

In the meantime, I was delving into the backgrounds of the five vessels my _Qíngrén_ was monitoring in the Vetus System; from the very limited amount of evidence she had transmitted to me, I had been able to glean a great deal more information concerning the former Cerberus vessels.

Utilizing my access to all the records Liara had retrieved from Jack Harper’s private quarters inside the shattered remains of Cronos Station, I learned the vessel orbiting Sidon was a former Blue Suns corvette named _Red Serpent;_ its specified crew complement had numbered forty-three when it was launched by Cord-Hislop in 2169.  It wasn’t surprising to learn that the _Serpent’s_ last known location was the Anadius System.  _Most likely disabled while defending the station from_ _Alliance-allied warships supporting Commander Shepard’s mission to retrieve the stolen Prothean data,_ came the thought.  _Blue Suns must have adopted the quarian’s habit of salvaging derelict ships._

In short order, I had the names and launch dates of the other four ships Xiùlán was monitoring.  Of some surprise, I discovered the mercenaries had not bothered to rename any of the ships they had appropriated and restored to service.  _Dragon’s Greed_ and _Dragon’s Avarice_ were sister ships; slightly smaller than _Red Serpent,_ they had been launched within a week of each other in 2167.  While each had originally been crewed by thirty-nine people, I fully believed that advances since that time in shipboard AI’s and automated equipment would have reduced the total crew requirement for each vessel by a third, to a range of from twenty-six to twenty-nine people.

Each of the remaining two ships had launched a year apart— _Noble Wyvern_ in the fall of 2170 and _Eva’s Smile_ in the spring of 2171—and had originally been crewed by thirty-five people each.  Each of these corvettes had been equipped with the best ablative armor and kinetic barriers available at the time, while weaponry was limited to disruptor torpedo launchers and anti-fighter laser turrets.  Try as I might, I could not uncover what, if any, upgrades to the weapons systems the Blue Suns may have installed.  My thought was that—given enough time—I could discover exactly what upgrades had been applied to each of the ships, but I felt a group as aggressive as the Suns would not have hesitated to hang as many launchers and turrets on these ships as their systems could manage.  It was hard for me to imagine that one, or even two of these ships would be a match for the _Hong Kong_ , but my gut was telling me that all five attacking with coordinated strikes just might be able to disable—or destroy—the frigate.

Another thought caused my stomach to clench; what if the Suns possessed a few larger vessels?  With that in mind, I chained two of the processors together and bent them to the task of searching for every ship registration tied—no matter how remotely—to the Blue Suns.

While that search was being processed, I studied the capabilities of the five ships I _had_ identified.  In addition to their prowess at ship-to-ship combat in space, these vessels were fully capable of making planetary landings; this would allow the Blue Suns to place soldiers on the ground with relative ease.  My analysis of each ship’s hull configuration confirmed my fears that they would be quite useful for abducting colonists for the slave trade.  It was really distressing to learn the merc group had turned to kidnapping and trafficking so soon after the Reaper War had ended.

It was nearing midday, and my stomach had begun growling in displeasure; my glance at the chrono on the end of the counter confirmed the alarm being sent by my rumbling stomach, so I decided to take a break.  Copying all the data I had assembled concerning the ships Xiùlán was monitoring in Elysium’s system, I uploaded it to my secure comms device, activated the transmitter and sent it off to my _Qíngrén,_ thinking, _I certainly hope she doesn’t have to deal with more than the five ships that are already there._   Looking at Griff, I said, “Hey, Buchanan.  I’m going out for a bite to eat … I should be back in ninety.”

* * *

**♦ JERON’S CAFÉ, DELTA WARD ♦**

I slid into the chair behind my favorite table after pausing on the way in to order a sandwich and a beer.  While waiting for my order, I activated my omnitool to check the vid-news summaries aimed at the average civilian; it was no surprise that ANN, the main news source for billions of Alliance citizens, made no mention about the crashing price of eezo.  The quality and credibility of their reporting, particularly their investigative reporting, had suffered tremendously after Emily Wong’s death—while she was doing live updates, no less—in the first hours of the Reaper invasion against Earth.  A shiver ran down my spine as I thought back to my own narrow escape from Vancouver that day; had I not been working on the _Normandy,_ I could just as easily have met the same fate.

Glancing up at the sound of the entry door opening and closing, I winced upon recognizing the man that had come in.  Choosing to take no obvious notice of him, I continued to browse through ANN’s news feed.  In less than a minute, it was painfully clear that ignoring the presence of the Alliance Naval officer hadn’t worked; a shadow fell across the table and a familiar voice asked, “May I join you, Ms Traynor?”  _Shit!  Just my fucking luck!_  I pretended to be surprised as I looked up at _Normandy_ Captain Bill Cody, waiting calmly on the other side of the table.  I closed the interface on my omnitool with a small sigh of resignation, gave him a curt nod and waved a hand at the empty chair.

He replied by smiling slightly while pulling out the chair; before he could sit, a waiter approached with my sandwich and beer.  After setting utensils wrapped in a napkin and a tall glass filled with foamy amber liquid on the table, he placed the plate bearing my sandwich in front of me, then looked expectantly at Cody, who said, “I’ll have what she’s having,” before easing himself into the chair across from me.

As the young man went back to the kitchen, I deliberately tilted my head to the right as I asked, “What brings you out here today, Cap’n?” then silently regarded him as I took a bite from my sandwich and chewed.

Cody narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at me.  “Thought I’d get a spot of lunch ashore today, Ms Traynor.”  After several moments he added with a thin smile, “I’m actually glad to see you here  … it’ll save me from having to contact you later.”

I noticed his smile hadn’t reached his eyes … never a good sign.  After taking a couple of swallows of beer, I set the glass back in the ring of condensation it had left on the table.  “You can talk about anything you like, Cap’n, as long as it’s not official business … or _my_ business.”

Cody clasped his hands together at the edge of the table and leaned back in his chair.  “Since I’m still breathing and speaking with you, I want to offer my apologies for my unprofessional behavior at the start of our previous conversation.  There really was no excuse for my conduct … I’m sorry.”

I responded to this with a dismissive wave of my hand.  “Yesterday’s news, Cap’n.  We each need to find our way forward after everything that’s happened these past few months … hell! These past few years … to each of us.”  I took another bite from my sandwich as the waiter brought a sandwich and a glass of beer to the table; setting Cody’s lunch in front of him, he looked at me expectantly and asked, “Another beer, Ma’am?”  Cody murmured his appreciation as I shook my head and replied, “Not just yet, thanks.”

Bill started eating his sandwich as he looked at me; after chewing and swallowing, he took a drink from his glass, then said, “With that out of the way, I have a progress report for you, Ms Traynor.”  Seeing my expression, he quickly added, “No business.”  Upon observing my reluctant nod of acceptance, he continued.  “After speaking with the Admiral this morning, he agreed to cut orders for the _Normandy_ … we’re going to oversee the relocation of that pile of eezo out by the relay.”

Finishing the first half of my sandwich and taking another sip of beer from my glass, I picked up the other half and waited without comment for Cody to take another bite from his own sandwich.  After chewing and swallowing, he took a couple of swallows of beer, then set the glass down, where he idly spun it about in the ring of condensation on the table while saying, “Harbinger has assigned several of the destroyers to the task of relocating the stuff; since they can handle refined eezo with no ill effects, they’ll move it all to a location being reserved near Omega Station.  Once it’s out of this system and in Aria’s backyard, it will totally be her problem to deal with.”

Unconsciously mirroring Cody, I idly spun my own glass in its condensation ring while asking, “And the recovery efforts at Earth, Palaven and all the colonies?”

Bill slowly brought his glass up to take a swallow of the contents before replying.  “Ongoing.  As you are no doubt aware, the remnants of the Alliance Navy is stretched pretty damned thin.  Harbinger has directed more Reaper destroyers to assist in the recovery efforts, but there is also the issue of the still broken mass relays in the outlying systems.”  He shook his head slightly as he quietly directed his attention back to finishing his lunch.  After draining the beer from his glass, he continued, “The task of repairing all the infrastructure civilization depends on is one of epic proportions … Herculean, to put it bluntly.  Everyone’s been going at it for more than a year, and the reports I’ve seen indicate we’ve barely made more than a dent.”

I held my glass up to gain the attention of our waiter as I said, “I hate to ask, but, …” I studied him intently as I finished, “… recovery of people, spaced during the war?  I know from Master Guns Patton that the _Shanghai_ was heavily involved … how’s that going?” 

Bill nodded, a bit of sadness creeping into his expression.  “Thanks to our former adversaries, the majority of _that_ portion of the recovery—at least over Earth—has been completed.”  He closed his eyes as he squeezed the bridge of his nose between thumb and finger.  “Unfortunately, not everyone spaced made it into the void whole; it’s all the pieces … people ripped apart by explosive decomp, or those cut into pieces when they were slammed into sharp edges, that they’re attempting to recover.”

The waiter brought two full glasses of beer to our table; after setting them down, he picked up empty glasses and plates and silently departed.  On impulse, I reached across the table; grasping the hand of my former captain, I sighed, “I heard about Xiùlán tasking the Repositories with recovering the organic remains, Bill.  I would have expected the job to be nearly complete by now.  Were there really _that_ many people spaced during the battles over Earth?”

Cody looked down at my hand before returning his scrutiny to my eyes as I regarded him in a gaze of sympathy for comrades … _our_ comrades, dammit! … forever lost to a brutal war.  “We may never have a full accounting of the cost in lives, Samantha, and just to be clear, a helluva lot of turians, quarians, krogan and salarians also died in the skies over Earth.  We can guess at the cost by listing the crew complement of each ship that was destroyed, or by counting remaining crew aboard damaged ships with compartments open to space, but honestly? …”  He shrugged his shoulders as he grew silent.  Picking up the glass in front of him, he knocked back a fourth of the contents and sighed as he set it back down.

I gave the hand I was holding a slight squeeze before releasing it to pick up my own glass.  After taking several swallows, I leaned back in the chair and asked, “Have you heard any more about the undesirables living in the apartments overlooking the docks?”

Cody returned his attention to my face, a bit of amusement evident in his expression.  “There has been some discussion … nothing I can confirm, of course …” he said with a wink, “that the upper floors of those two buildings will be made available to Alliance officers at a discounted rate.  Of course, there won’t be any of the fancy monitoring equipment left behind.  Funny, that.”

I polished off the rest of my beer; smiling as I set the empty glass down and stood from my chair,  I placed my hip against the table and laid a hand on Bill’s shoulder as I looked down and said, “I hate to admit it, but I’ve enjoyed our meal together, Captain.  Perhaps we can do this again, sometime soon?”

Cody looked up at me as he answered, “I think I’d like that … Samantha … very much.”

Nodding as I released his shoulder, I walked away from the table to the front counter, where I paid for my lunch … and his.  With a quick glance over my shoulder at the man’s back, I went through the door and walked briskly back to my speeder.

* * *

 **♦** **SSV HONG KONG, NEAR ELYSIUM · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA** **♦**

Captain Yuán Xiùlán had spent a bit of time studying the ship specifications forwarded to her by her _Qíngrén;_ after copying the data file to the ship’s combat computer archive, she was meeting with Lieutenant Cross and Specialist Lawson in the conference and comms compartment between Decks One and Two.

As was his way, Cross had studied the specs of each of the five ships without comment or question, preferring to wait until he had considered each one thoroughly before asking questions.  Looking up, he commented, “Appears each was originally well-armed.”  After a moment, he snorted.  “I suppose it would be too much to hope that the Blue Suns _removed_ any of the guns or launchers.”

Xiùlán chuckled slightly, amused at his attempt at levity.  “Yeah, I suppose the unfortunate truth is that each of those ships has been up-armored and retrofitted with more and improved ablative cladding and additional advanced weaponry.  They will certainly present a challenge.”

“You don’t believe they’re here simply as a result of blind chance?” came the snarky rejoinder.

Xiùlán studied her XO’s face intently, attempting to ascertain if he was posing a rhetorical question, or honestly expected an answer.  Deciding to believe the latter, she responded in a quiet voice, “I don’t believe the Blue Suns ever rely on blind chance to accomplish their goals, Jack.  They always have a plan, and it is invariably about profit.”

The expression on Lieutenant Cross’s face was a mixture of incredulity and disbelief.  “You believe they’re here to attack Elysium? … kidnap a bunch of colonists for the slave trade?”

With a heavy sigh, Yuán replied, “I can think of no other reason for five Blue Suns warships to be in a dead end system, Lieutenant.”  She continued to watch the tactical projection of the system as it tracked the positions of the five corvettes.  “They cannot claim to simply be passing through on their way to someplace else.  Only question now is, what are they waiting for?  The four in orbit about Joppa seem content to stay where they are, as does the corvette in orbit about Sidon; they haven’t detected our presence, so what’s their plan?”

At this point, Specialist Lawson ventured an opinion.  “Ma’am, if I may?  My guess is they’re simply waiting for reinforcements.  As small as those five are, they could easily be damaged or destroyed by Elysium’s orbital defense net, even though it hasn’t been restored to its pre-war level.  Do the Blue Suns possess anything heavier? … Any frigates, or light-cruiser class vessels?”

“Good question, Specialist … one I will forward on up the chain.”  Xiùlán didn’t expect she would need to ask the question of her Inamorata _.  If I know Sà mǐ, she’s already looking for answers._

* * *

**♦ SHADOW BROKER’S RESIDENCE · BRAVO WARD, CITADEL ♦**

After parking the speeder, I descended the spiral staircase from the rooftop garage and went straight to my room, there to eliminate the beer I had downed and remove my armor and weapons.  Griff knocked on the outer door as I was removing my under-armor skins.  “Just a sec …” I said, loud enough for him to hear through the panel.  Pulling on a pair of shorts and a crop top tee-shirt after pulling on a clean pair of panties, I padded across the floor in my bare feet and released the lock on the door; calling out as it opened, I asked, “What do you need, Griff?

Buchanan pushed off from the wall beside the door and turned to face me.  “I may have discovered a way to curb the sales of illegally obtained eezo … it _is_ rather simplistic, but that may be the only way it can work.”  He followed me as I strolled to the console to check our data feeds.

“Anything proposed will _have_ to be simple, Griff.”  I inspected the paired servers examining the Blue Suns’ ship registries before turning to face him, fisted hands firmly on my hips.

Crossing his arms over his chest and cocking back on one leg, he said,  “By its very nature, eezo is a hazardous substance … especially the refined element.  In order to safely handle the material, one has to trained in the proper methods of minimizing exposure, not only to the handler but the uninformed general public.”  Griff uncrossed his arms and took a seat in the chair beside me.  “In every one of the places I searched regarding the industry, I could find no rules mandating that companies refining or selling the stuff need to have safety rules in place to protect workers and the public … no matter if it’s Illium, Omega, or someplace in the middle of the Terminus.  There should be enforceable rules … regulations … regarding the safe handling of the material, from mine, to refinery, to storage, to sales.”

My mouth fell open at this information.  “Geez, Griff!  Do the governing bodies in these places think the companies will simply look out for their worker’s and the public’s benefit out of the goodness of their hearts?”

Buchanan smiled as he leaned back in his chair.  “I can only speak for humans on Earth, Sammy, but the slow slide down the slippery slope of decreasing regulations began in the early 21st century as the planet came to be increasingly dominated by a few powerful, multi-national companies.  Profit was being increasingly pursued with no regard to worker safety—it was as if the CEO’s of those businesses cared nothing for those that enabled the payments of their insanely inflated salaries.”

“What were the governments doing, Griff?  They’re supposed to keep their citizens safe, correct?”  My question sounded a lot snarkier than I’d intended.

Griff leaned forward again; referring to a monitor in front of him, he said in an especially grim tone of voice, “By the time the so called regulators woke up to the health and welfare issues brought on by profit-driven greed, it was too late; the very companies that were causing the majority of the problems were in positions to effectively control the governments.”

“What about free elections?  Certainly …”

Buchanan interrupted my question with a bitter laugh at my seeming naiveté.  Standing, he began to pace as he continued to speak.  “Elections were rigged, behind the scenes.  The machines used for voting had become completely computerized, Sammy.  You, of all people, must realize what a windfall that was for the big corporations.  The will of the majority no longer mattered … and still doesn’t, to this day.”

I thought about this in silence as Griff came up behind me.  Placing his hands on my shoulders, he added, “With the Reaper War concluded, things have gradually been going back to the way they were before Sovereign appeared … and it just occurred to me that _you_ could have an influence … a positive influence … on these things going forward.”

Turning my head to look back and up at his face as he leaned over me, I asked, “You mean … tipping elections?  Ensuring the people who _should_ be in power actually get there?”

“Exactly!  If the elections are already being rigged, it would be relatively simple to ensure the right people are appointed or elected.”

Trapping my lower lip in my teeth for a moment, I carefully considered Griff’s words.  Letting the captured lip slowly slide out past my teeth, I said in a soft voice, “As tempting as that idea is, that’s not what we’re here to do, Griff … it’s not the way I want us to operate.  This position is unique in all the galaxy, and I don’t want us to succumb to the temptation to abuse it.”  Covering the hands atop my shoulders with my own, I added, “The Broker eliminated by Shepard and T’Soni during the Collector campaign used … or abused … his position to influence the outcomes of a great many contests across the galaxy.”

Griff slipped his hands out from under mine as he declared, “Precisely, Sammy.  Why should we do things any differently?”

Standing, I slowly turned to face him as I rolled the chair aside; bringing my arms up, I placed my hands against the center of his chest and tilted my head back; capturing his greenish-gray eyes with a steady gaze, I answered, “Because we’re _not_ Cerberus, or the League of One, or Homeward Sol, Griffen Buchanan.  We’re _not_ Terra Firma.”  Sighing deeply, I placed my forehead against his chest and spoke with all the conviction I could muster.  “I brought you into this because I needed someone with me that can watch _my_ back, but I also need you to help keep _us_ focused, Griff.  Our primary task …” I paused to swallow and take a step back away from him.  Raising both hands above my head, I waved slightly while turning around, indicating all the equipment in the room.  “our _only_ task, is to gather and sell information.  Any divergence from that path, no matter our intention, is a waste of these resources … and our time.  We only have one chance to get this right, Griff.”

By now, Buchanan was holding his own hands up in surrender.  “I apologize, Sammy … you are absolutely correct.  But you _do_ see my point, don’t you?”

I nodded as I returned to my chair and replied, “I can see your point quite clearly, Griff, but the best thing we can do right now is make sure those companies marketing hazardous materials, particularly eezo, are utilizing every safety measure that’s required of them.  Any found to be skirting the few regulations that _are_ in place need to have their permits revoked, and that’s something you _can_ research.”

With a wink and a nod, Griff grinned as he returned to his terminal with a renewed sense of purpose.

* * *

**♦ SSV HONG KONG, NEAR ELYSIUM · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA ♦**

Captain Yuán Xiùlán felt as if her head had barely touched the pillow in her berth when she was startled awake by the soft, tri-toned alarm of an incoming message on the secure comms device given to her by Sammy.  With a tired sigh, she blindly reached over to the device and, after several attempts, managed to touch the ACCEPT control; this quieted the alert signal immediately, but she had a sneaking hunch it would begin its tri-tone song again within twenty or thirty minutes.  _Gāisǐ, Sà mǐ … Nǐ zěnme zhīdào wǒ shuìzhele?_  [該死，薩米 … 你怎麼知道我睡著了？– Damn, Sà mǐ … how did you know I was asleep?] came the silent accusation.  The device remained stubbornly mute.

Not wishing to have her sleep disturbed again, Xiùlán rolled out of bed and padded the three steps to her desk.  Turning the red belt-rail lights on to their dimmest setting, she activated the vid-terminal on her desk and linked it to the secure comms unit that had interrupted her sleep.  Xiùlán was not surprised at the image that resolved on the view screen; the surprise was the bad news that Sà mǐ had sent.

Traynor had discovered the Blue Suns were in possession of a pair of light cruisers, launched in late 2181.  The _Guardian_ and the _Vigilance_ had been constructed to then state-of-the-art Systems Alliance specifications at Cord-Hislop Aerospace’s main shipyard before the Eden Prime War in 2183; as with the corvettes Xiùlán was monitoring, this pair of Cerberus ships had been damaged and abandoned near Minuteman Station.  The Blue Suns had boarded and repaired them just enough so they could be _limped_ through the relays to a friendly repair facility orbiting Illium.

Using the relay logs in Widow, Pax, Utopia and Vetus, Traynor had determined that only one ship was traveling; it had taken her a couple of hours of exacting work to trace the _Vigilance_ to the Pax system.  Back-tracing the ship’s movements from there, she managed to discover it had departed eight days ago from Balor in the Caleston Rift; she had yet to determine the location of the _Guardian_ , but was continuing to search for it.  In the meantime, the Broker cautioned Xiùlán to be on the lookout for the arrival of the _Vigilance_ , warning that the Blue Suns would probably not commit either of their cruisers to Vetus until after the corvettes already in system had begun their attack on Elysium.

Xiùlán briefly looked at the specs for each ship before copying the data to the pair of consoles used by Specialist Lawson and Lieutenant Cross in the CIC on Deck One; she next sent a MESSAGE RECEIVED affirmation back to the originating transmitter.  After drinking a glass of water, she crawled back in bed.  _With any luck, I’ll get another three or four hours before I have to get up._  

* * *

Xiùlán was abruptly roused from her slumber by the distinctive sound of an alarm, blaring its strident noise throughout the ship from the overhead speakers.  Placing her comm-link in her ear, she activated the device and said, “Duty Officer—Sitrep.”

“The Blue Suns’ corvettes have left orbit and joined up over Elysium.  A light cruiser just entered the system and is on an intercept course for the planet, ETA five hours at its current velocity.  Hull configuration matches the _Vigilance_ , Ma’am.”

“Has the cruiser deviated to discharge its drive core?”

“No, Ma’am.

“Roger that.”  Xiùlán absolutely hated the position she was in, but saw no alternative to the course of action she needed to follow.  “Notify the planetary defense command, immediately … they need to stop those corvettes before they can make landfall, or they’ll play hell getting them off the planet.  Send a message to Alliance Fleet Command at Arcturus so they know what’s happening.  I’ll be up there in five minutes.”  After using the toilet, she hurriedly scrubbed the sleep from her face, brushed and retied her hair, then got dressed and left her quarters.  After a quick stop at the galley to grab a mug of coffee, she ascended the circular staircase to Deck One, where she found Lieutenant Cross updating the tactical display overlaying the portion of the galaxy map depicting the Vetus System, and Specialist Lawson in hushed conversation over her comms.

Miranda, looking up from her comms interface, reported, “Ma’am.  We have confirmation from Elysium’s defense command … they are tracking the corvettes and have their ground installations activated, along with their orbiting defenses.  Their commander feels confident he can keep five civilian commanded corvettes from making landfall.”

“Thank you, Specialist.  Lieutenant?”

“The _Vigilance_ is still inbound,” Cross responded quietly as he split his attention between the graphical display and his captain.  “I do not believe any of them are aware of our presence.”

 ** _I am still projecting a dampening field around Hong Kong-frigate_** _,_ an ancient voice intoned.

For the third time since her mission to rescue Miranda Lawson from Blue Suns captivity in the ruined city of Vancouver, Xiùlán silently thanked her ancestors that Asharru, the Destroyer-class Repository discovered and rescued from Luna, chose to accompany the _Hong Kong_ everywhere it traveled.  “Thank you, Asharru.  Please stand by.”

Looking at the tactical display, she noticed the _Vigilance_ had just passed through the thin asteroid belt located outside the orbit of Joppa.  “Lieutenant, plot an intercept course to bring us up behind that vessel.  As soon as we’re there, I’ll warn them; if they so much as twitch, we’ll take out their engineering section … I’m not going to screw around with this bastard.  Something tells me the Suns added substantially to that ship’s armament.  With the exception of Asharru, there’s no one else out here that can assist us if we get tagged by that thing.”

Cross’s lips were set in a firm, straight line as he replied, “Aye, Ma’am,” and set about his task.

Thinking about Elysium had reminded Yuán of something else about this system.  “Specialist, have you sent a warning to Grissom Academy?”

“Yes, Ma’am … they’ve acknowledged the warning and are taking what precautions they can.”

 “Sounds like they haven’t been able to repair the station’s defenses.”

“No, Ma’am.  Station personnel are at a bare minimum for safe operation.”  Miranda studied her display screen.  “They don’t have enough people to spare for anything beyond light reconstruction of the habitat areas.”

“Roger that, Specialist.  Any indication the Suns are targeting the station?”

“None of their ships have approached it.  Perhaps it’s not perceived to be a good source of slaves.”

“Excellent.  Continue to monitor their status, Mr Cross.  Cerberus made a shambles of the place early in the war.  I don’t want them sustaining more damage on top of the previous destruction.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

Seeming to address the air above her, Xiùlán said, “Asharru.  Please contact Harbinger and explain the situation we are facing here … request that he send Žiuk’Durmah as backup and inform him we would welcome the additional support.”

 ** _I will make the request, Yuán-Captain_**.

* * *

 **♦** **NOS AEDELOS, ILLIUM · TASALE SYSTEM, CRESCENT NEBULA** **♦**

“They’re doing what!?”  Jona Sederis reacted to this latest bit of unwelcome news exactly as she always did, resulting in an extended coughing fit that left her gasping for breath.  Her lieutenant, having been the unfortunate soul chosen to deliver unpleasant news to her leader, stood absolutely still and gazed at her own booted feet.  Sederis was bad-tempered most of the time; having just seen and heard the insane asari seemingly attempting to cough her lungs out of her chest,  Suvanni D’Klan waited silently for the blow she feared was coming.

As Sederis got her breathing back under control, she directed her angry gaze at D’Klan’s calm façade.  “What in Goddess’ name are they thinking, ’Vanni?”  A bout of coughing interrupted her; after once again gaining control of her spasming diaphragm, she continued with, “Who’s the brilliant strategist that dreamed up this idea?”

Suvanni directed her gaze at a point just past Jona’s shoulder as she calmly responded in a quiet voice, “Started with Spectre Shepard, Ma’am.  Apparently, Omega’s queen complained about the price of eezo sliding down the proverbial Varren hole.  Shepard convinced Admiral Hackett to relocate that great stinkin’ pile of material from the Widow System to a place close enough that the bitch can keep an eye on it … prevent pilfering.”

“Goddess be damned, ’Vanni! … that stinking human has been a pain in my ass since before the war!  And T’Loak doesn’t own that fucking pile of eezo!  No one does … that’s why it’s been so profitable … for me!”  The extended silence following her outburst was broken only by the harsh sound of Jona’s wheezing attempts to breathe normally.  After thinking about the problem for several minutes, she asked, “Are there any other places the recovered stuff is being stored? … places that are not being monitored so closely?”

D’Klan nodded once as she replied, “There’s a fairly large amount sitting near the repaired relay in Arcturus.”  Before Sederis could protest, Suvanni hurriedly continued, “With Arcturus Station destroyed and the decimation of the Alliance fleets, not a lot of eyes are available to monitor the situation there, Ma’am.”

“Two additional relays to traverse, ’Vanni.”  Sederis placed an oxy-mask over her nose and mouth in order to ease the ache in her lungs.  After a few breaths, she added, “Additional distance means more travel time and fuel costs.”  Another brief pause.  “Find out what Eclipse needs to do in order to begin ‘borrowing’ from that pile of material, ’Vanni.  We need to keep the pressure on Omega’s miserable whore.  The more unstable the price of eezo becomes, the more uncertain her ass will sit on her throne.”

* * *

**♦ SHADOW BROKER’S RESIDENCE · BRAVO WARD ♦**

I had been enjoying a late lunch when an unexpected comms call from Buchanan—working in the research center inside Iringù-Eßizkur—disturbed the silence inside our apartment ashore.  _“Sammy, Asharru just relayed a request to Harbinger for some heavy backup in the Vetus System.”_

“The _Hong Kong_?”  My heart clenched.  Pushing down a wave of panic for the safety of my _Inamorata_ , I asked, “What’s going on?”

_“Iringù-Eßizkur did not receive any specific information, Sammy, but if I had to guess, I’d say the Vigilance arrived in system, which means the Hong Kong and Elysium are now facing six very capable warships.  If that is the case, the Blue Suns are making their move … the cruiser will take up an overwatch position while the corvettes raid the colonies there and on Sidon.”_

“Shit!  Okay, Griff … whether or not Harbinger, Esiz’Qür or Žiuk’Durmah travel to that system, we’re going.  Check your gear … and the food stores.  I want to hit the relay in an hour.”  After taking a couple of deep, calming breaths, I reactivated the comms terminal and said, “Iringù-Eßizkur.  Make ready to leave the station.  We need to be in the Vetus System as soon as we can.”

 **›** _I am ready to lift off as soon as you arrive, Shadow Broker_. **‹**

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, AT LARGE ♦**

I had stored our speeder and brought the groceries I had purchased—fresh foods and frozen meals—into Irin’s habitat section; I busied myself putting everything away, including the food and beer Griff had hastily bought for us.  Looking at the stockpile gave my confidence level a much needed boost; I did not want to repeat having to survive on field rats as I had been forced to do after Steve Cortez had crashed our shuttle inside Harbinger, as the giant construct had attempted to escape the explosion of Žiuk’Durmah’s ejected eezo core in the Sol System.

After getting our kitchen squared away, I activated Irin’s comm terminal in the research area to let her know she was free to leave the Citadel and set her course for Vetus.  As soon as she acknowledged me, I retreated to my sleeping quarters to get all my travel gear stored away; once that was done, I met with Buchanan in the lounge.  “Can you give me a Sitrep?”

“Esiz’Qür is traveling to the system.  I’ve been monitoring chatter among Alliance ships; _Normandy_ will be leaving the Citadel, but I get the impression Cody will only be going as far as the Exodus Cluster.”  Griff used his omnitool to have the bulkhead mounted monitor display the section of the galaxy map in question.  “Only way anyone can leave Vetus is to return to Utopia, so _Normandy_ will wait for any ships that enter the cluster from there.  More importantly, Žiuk’Durmah will be accompanying _Normandy_.  I sincerely doubt any of those corvettes—or hell, even that light cruiser—can damage a capitol Reaper that’s fully prepared to eliminate them.”

 **›** _Repositories will not terminate innocent lives, Buchanan-Griffen_. **‹**

“None of the people working for the Blue Suns are innocents, Irin,” I responded before Griff could answer.  “They’re attempting to kidnap innocent people from the colonies in order to sell them into slavery, and they’ll use every weapon at their disposal to achieve that goal.”

“The Alliance doesn’t have enough ships to defend all the human colonies, Iringù-Eßizkur,” Griff added.  “It’ll be up to us to keep those pirates from succeeding.”  Griff glanced at me as he concluded, “You may have to preemptively defend yourself—and us—against attack … by any or all of those six vessels.  Will you do that?”

We waited a number of minutes for an answer; I was nearly ready to prompt her when she finally replied, **›** _My continued existence matters_.  _The safety of my human companions is a priority_.  _I will do what I must_ … _to protect myself from damage_ … _protect my companions from injury_. **‹**

“I know what we’re asking of you is not easy, Iringù-Eßizkur.  If it helps, think of all the innocent lives on Elysium, _and_ on the _Hong Kong_.”  I paused a moment before concluding, “The Blue Suns make a living by preying on the weak … the defenseless.  It’s a situation that absolutely must not be allowed to continue.”

 **›** _I will do what is needed, Shadow Broker_. **‹**

* * *

**♦ SSV HONG KONG, NEAR ELYSIUM · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA ♦**

Miranda Lawson touched the comlink in her ear and said, “Captain Yuán.  There’s major activity at the relay.  Two Repositories, one Sovereign-class, one destroyer, just entered the system.”

Xiùlán replied, _“On my way to the CIC, Specialist.”_

Upon arriving, Yuán inspected the tactical map being displayed in place of the galaxy map.  “Doesn’t appear you’ve identified our friends, Specialist.”

“Neither has responded to my hails, Captain.”

Yuán nodded as she touched her own comlink.  “Asharru, please identify the Repositories that just entered the system.”

 **›** _Esiz’Qür_.  _Iringù-Eßizkur_.  _Additionally, Žiuk’Durmah and Normandy are standing by_ _the Utopia_ _relay to prevent the escape of any of the pirate ships that succeed in getting to the Vetus relay_. **‹**

 _Sà mǐ!_ …  “Very well, Asharru.  Please contact Iringù-Eßizkur … ask her to contact me on my private frequency.”  Xiùlán strode to the port side hatch and took the stairs down to the war room.  She had just taken a seat when the display well lit up with the projection of a Repository-Destroyer; the minor differences in appearance between _this_ old machine and Asharru readily apparent to Xiùlán’s trained eyes.

“ _Yuán Xiùlán-Captain.   It seems we are destined to fight together yet again._”

Xiùlán grinned at the image before her.  “Iringù-Eßizkur.  I did not expect you to join us here, but your presence is most welcome.  May I assume your arrival … and that of Esiz’Qür, is to provide assistance in kicking the Blue Suns out of this system?”

 _“ Affirmative, Captain.”_  Knowing our exchange was being recorded by the _Hong Kong’s_ computer, I was employing subterfuge to conceal my presence inside the Repository; it was Irin’s image being displayed to Xiùlán, but it was my voice—being filtered through an electronic processor similar to the one I used when speaking as the Broker—to which Xiùlán was listening.  I had quickly discovered I could sound exactly like Iringù-Eßizkur, including her musical undertones, from inside the Broker’s research compartment; I only needed to speak evenly with a machine’s cadence to be convincing.

 _“ If I may suggest, it might be wise to allow Asharru to employ his main weapon against the Vigilance, while Hong Kong stands ready as backup.  Esiz’Qür will provide assistance to Elysium’s planetary defenses_.  _The goal will be preventing any of the five Blue Suns corvettes from landing on the planet’s surface_. _”_

“Your suggestion has merit, Iringù-Eßizkur.  The _Hong Kong_ will follow Asharru … we will standby with weapons ready.”  Feeling much better about the possible outcome of their upcoming fight, Xiùlán cut the connection, rose from her chair, left the war room and returned to the CIC.

* * *

 

 


	8. Slaver Attack On Elysium

_Her mother told her she could grow up to be anything she wanted to be, so she grew up to become the strongest of the strong, the strangest of the strange, the wildest of the wild, the wolf leading wolves. —_ Nikita Gill

* * *

 ** _Ai_** – [愛 • love] (whether spoken by Xiùlán or Samantha, the meaning is _‘luv’)_ ]  
**_Inamorata_** – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)  
**_Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _‘Erin’_ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _‘Iringù-Eßizkur’  
_**_Qíngrén_** – [情人 – lover]

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, ON ELYSIUM · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA ♦**

The pirate ship’s main drive and weapons systems had been crippled by several well-placed shots during its ultimately unsuccessful attempt to elude the mobile planetary defense cannons orbiting the planet, forcing it to make a none too gentle belly landing at the spaceport.  Having decided the Marines aboard the _Hong Kong_ would be better suited to breaching _Dragon’s Greed,_ Griff and I opted to remain within Iringù-Eßizkur and asked her to set down within view of the settlement’s colonial spaceport, but far enough away from the facility so as to appear harmless.

Video coverage of the ground-deployed Reapers during their final assault on Earth had featured many of the relatively less powerful Destroyer-class machines, so I was willing to bet that none of the locals, and certainly no one aboard _Dragon’s Greed,_ were aware of the accuracy she possessed with her _face_ –mounted, heavy-duty beam weapon.  Standing at less than ten percent of the height—but possessing a numerical advantage of roughly 20-to-1 compared to the many _Nazara_ class machines we had faced that day—Iringù-Eßizkur was more than capable of living up to her classification and, even at this distance, was anything but harmless.

The _Hong Kong_ had followed _Dragon’s Greed_ nearly down to the surface; coming to an eezo-core assisted slow orbit over the crippled corvette at an altitude of some 30 meters above the field, the frigate deployed a Marine squad in a UT-47a, which performed a combat landing beside the downed ship.  As the shuttle lifted off for a return trip to the _Hong Kong_ , the Marines boarded through the main airlock by blowing first the outer hatch, then the inner, thus insuring the vessel would not be returning to the airless vacuum of space.  Successfully inside, they met virtually no resistance; every member of the small crew was injured, some seriously so.  As soon as the squad leader confirmed that neither the crew nor the downed corvette was any threat to the _Hong Kong_ , the frigate—still orbiting the field—sent the shuttle back down with an intelligence gathering team, led by a fully armed and armored Specialist Miranda Lawson.

Captain Yuán Xiùlán had offered to share some of the recovered data after their search of the light corvette was complete, but her call to Iringù-Eßizkur included some amazing information.

 _“Iringù-Eßizkur?  I’m reasonably sure you didn’t leave my Qíngrén on the Citadel.  Please_ … _I really need to speak with her.”_

Smiling in spite of myself, I took a seat in front of the comms terminal, relatively confident Xiùlán was by herself.  “What can I do for you, Ai?”

_“It’s what we can do together, Sà mǐ.  I have the identity of Dragon’s Greed’s captain … it’s someone I’m sure you’ll recognize.  Remember a squint by the name of Kryllê Ghydgryz?”_

An expression of shocked surprise colored my response as I said, “What the bloody ’ell? … that’s an incredible discovery!  So, what are you going to do with ’im?  I hate to sound like a predator, Captain, but is it possible he still possesses any of that illegitimate 65 million credit payday from the sale of a stolen asari artifact?”

The throaty chuckle I received made my heart flutter in longing.  _“Haven’t had a chance to ask him, Ai_ … _Med techs are treating his injuries—nothing really major, fortunately_ … _all caused by the ship being tossed around by weapons fire from the orbital defense platforms—before we transfer him to the brig.  I’ll have Sergeant Decker ask him a few questions after he’s locked down_ … _see what he can shake_ _loose.”_

“Sounds good, Captain.”  I paused, glancing at Buchanan as I thought about what I needed to say, and _how_ I needed to say it.  “Just a reminder, Ghydgryz getting paid for the sale of that figurine was completely against galactic law in general and asari law in particular.  We busted our asses recovering that ugly little statue … a mission that would have been totally unnecessary if that four-eyed bastard hadn’t destroyed the _Crystal Scarab_.”  Thinking back to that time in our lives, I glanced back over at Griff to find him watching me with a somber expression.

_“Do you have any thoughts about what we should do if we’re able to recover any of the credits the Suns paid Ghydgryz?  Sixty-five-million doesn’t go very far these days, and he was paid eight years ago.”_

“If he was smart, he’d have invested it.  My bet is he bought a newer ship, outfitted it with lots of pirate goodies and crew, then went raiding in the Terminus … at least until the Reapers arrived.  Pickin’s would have been rather thin during the war.”  I cupped my chin for a moment, then said, “Xiùlán, you need to go into that corvette … hack into Ghydgryz’s files.  I need numbers … locations.  If we can find his credits, galactic law permits confiscation for good cause.”

 _“Sà mǐ, nǐ yào wǒ ràoguò liánméng de guīdìng ma? …_ [薩米，你要我繞過聯盟的規定嗎？ –  Sami, do you want me to bypass the rules of the league _(Alliance)?]_ she asked, amazement coloring her voice. _“…_ _and to what good cause are you referring?”_

“Not sure what your first question was, Xiùlán, but I need to ask you … do you remember K’ath Din’sari?”

Xiùlán immediately replied, _“How could I not?  She was trying to make a better life for herself_ … _got totally screwed by Ugrolya Rarfenak, after setting him up for a meet with the Blue Suns.  Would have paid with her life if it hadn’t been for that STG agent_ … _Paddok Wiks.”_

“I’ve checked on her current situation, Xiùlán.  She’s still working as a waitress in _Krieger’s Tavern_ … still living in that tiny apartment in the Echo Ward foundations on the Citadel.  I would like to recruit her as an agent … a task that would be easier with some financial help.”

 _“I offered to share some of the info we recover from that ship, Ai_ … _but as an Alliance Naval officer, my sharing any financial data of a personal nature that’s recovered from that ship would be violating every rule and regulation I swore to uphold.  I cannot do that _… _not even for you, Sà mǐ!  I am sorry.”_

I looked down at the counter behind which I was sitting and sighed heavily.  Returning my gaze to the eyes of my _Inamorata_ , I attempted to keep the disappointment from coloring my voice as I answered her.  “Understood, Captain Yuán.  Even though the Alliance has declared the Blue Suns a terrorist organization, it was inappropriate for me to even ask such a thing of you.  Please forgive my thoughtlessness.”

Yuán smiled.  _“I can hear the disappointment in your voice,_ _wǒ de ài._ [我的愛 – my love] _I know your capabilities, Sà mǐ_ … _I have every confidence you’ll be able to track Captain Ghydgryz’s financial transactions back to just after his disappearance from Omega Station.”_

“Having his account numbers and banking locations would be a huge help, Luv.  It’ll take significantly longer for me to track those credits without that data, but I guarantee I will find that trail, no matter how cold it has grown.”  After pausing for a moment, I added, “We’ll be leaving in a few hours, Captain … I want to be sure the _Hong Kong_ and her crew make it back into orbit without any problems.” 

 _“Thank you, Sà mǐ_ … _I’ll contact you when we’re ready to depart.”_

With a nod of affirmation, I terminated the connection, stood from my chair and turned to face Buchanan.  “All of the crew on that ship, including Kryllê Ghydgryz, will be moved to the _Hong Kong_ for transport back to the Citadel.  Alliance will most likely have the _Hong Kong_ finish what the orbital defense stations began … Marines will place some charges, destroy that ship where it crash-landed.”  I paced about between the double row of terminals as I thought about my inability to intervene in the recovery of whatever credits that batarian pirate had managed to hang onto.

“She’s right, you know,” Griff offered softly.  “You … we … are probably considered by the Alliance to be outlaws, probably just as much as the Blue Suns.  You must realize she places her career in jeopardy every time she speaks with you, Sammy.”

I stopped pacing in order to study the grey-green eyes regarding me before admitting, “I know that, Griff.  Damn Alliance rules and regs!  Didn’t do either of us any favors after Cerberus infiltrated their top ranks and fucked our service records, did they.”  Cupping an elbow in my left hand, I placed the knuckles of my fisted right hand under my chin as I thought about the problem.  “If I could just get aboard that ship for thirty minutes…”

“Forget it, Sammy … I won’t let you risk your life that way!” Griff stood up and planted his fists on his hips as he waited for my reply.

“You think you can stop me without being seriously injured, possibly maimed?  You know what I’m capable of doing, Griff.  You really willing to risk it?”

“I do, Sammy … and I _am_ willing to risk it, if it means keeping you safe.  You’re not in Spec Ops anymore, so you’ll have to board that damned ship over my dead body, Samantha Traynor!  There’s no one we can call to extricate your ass from whatever trouble will most certainly find you and grab onto both cheeks.”

I stared at the man in amazement for several long, uncomfortably silent moments before slowly stepping up in front of him, where I gently reached out to grasp his upper arms.  “Griff, next to Xiùlán, you’re the most important person in my life now.”  I pulled him down until his eyes were level with mine.  “Thanks for keeping me focused … and for being my friend.”  I squeezed his triceps, placed a kiss on a scarred cheek, then released him as I whispered, “Let’s use what we _have_ learned about Ghydgryz … start looking for the credit trail that got him into the command chair of _Dragon’s Greed.”_

“Sounds good, Sammy.”

* * *

Several hours had quietly passed by the time I received another call from Xiùlán.  _“Sà mǐ, we’ve got the crew of Dragon’s Greed locked in the cargo hold, and we’ve retrieved everything of any possible value to the Alliance from their data banks.  We’ll be leaving in thirty.”_

“What about the other corvettes up there, Luv?  Or that cruiser?”

 _“Asharru disabled the Vigilance_ … _took out their engineering and weapons control systems.  They’re effectively dead in space, but in a stable orbit around Sidon.  Alliance will send a cruiser here to retrieve the ship and crew.  Esiz’Qür chased the other four corvettes through the relay_ … _where he assisted Normandy and Žiuk’Durmah in stopping them from getting away.”_

“I’ll just bet their captains are screaming bloody murder … it’s always the shits when the bad stuff you’re supposed to be doing to others happens to your own sorry ass.”  I added with a smirk, “It’s really too damned bad for them there’s no one in the Alliance that will listen to their complaints.”

Xiùlán bared her teeth in a grin.  _“Oh, I’m sure there are a few people listening.  Doing anything about it is another matter.  The Suns are terrorists_ … _their possession of those five warships, plus the Guardian—and their intent to use them for their slave trade—should be more than enough to convince most governments of that.”_

“Agreed.”  I wanted … needed … to say more but decided to wait.  “We’ll stay on the ground until _Hong Kong_ is back in orbit, Luv.  When we _do_ leave here, I may pay a visit to Grissom Academy … see how Major Alenko and Jack are getting along; and I never did hear if Kahlee Sanders ended her self-imposed exile and returned to the station.”

I saw Xiùlán’s eyes narrow in suspicion.  _“I can see the thought just as clearly as if you were telling me, Ai.  I’m warning you, in no uncertain terms_ … _stay clear of that ship. Dragon’s Greed is rigged; the demolition team just returned.”_

It wasn’t a stretch for me to paint an indignant expression on my face; I sent Buchanan a warning glance and replied, “Really, Captain?  That really wounds me … you actually think I have so little regard for my own well-being these days?”

Xiùlán appeared to be embarrassed at my question, which she chose not to answer.  After several moments, she finally said, _“Sà mǐ, nǐ de ài ràng wǒ de shēnghuó biàn dé wánzhěng. Wǒmen hěn kuài jiù huìtán.”_ [薩米，你的愛讓我的生活變得完整。 我們很快就會談。– Sami, your love makes my life complete.  We will talk soon.]

I didn’t even have to think about my reply; I poured every bit of the conviction I was feeling for her into my words.  “Méiyǒu nǐ de ài, wǒ de shēngmìng shì bù wánzhěng de, Xiùlán!  Fēi ānquán! [沒有你的愛，我的生命是不完整的，秀蘭！ 飛安全！– _Without your love, my life is incomplete, Xiulan!  Fly safe!]_

Nodding my head once, I cut the transmission, stood and moved around the partition to our lounge, where I watched the _Hong Kong’s_ lazy orbit of the field.  I could see that Xiùlán, despite my reply to her accusation, was making sure _Dragon’s Greed_ would meet its end without interference from me or anyone else.  _Probably recording the entire process for Admiral_ _Hackett_.

A pair of gentle hands softly grasped my shoulders.  “I know how bad you wanted in that ship, Sammy; I’m glad you chose not to go through me in order to get inside that damned thing.”

I placed my hands on top of his.  “Griff, you’ve always had my back … it’s why I wanted you along for this ride.”  We stood there, my back against his chest and my hands on top of his, watching and waiting for the charges placed by _Hong Kong’s_ demo team to detonate; when it happened, it was really anti-climactic.  The hull seemed to shudder from bow to stern; a few sections were breached, followed by a bit of smoke that dissipated quickly in the cold air.

With a sigh, I turned to Griff and said, “That’s it, then.  Port authorities will wait a few hours, then secure the drive core to prevent any eezo contamination of the area and haul the rest of the hull away to the scrap yard.”  I moved to the internal comms terminal to speak with Iringù-Eßizkur.  “Has _Hong Kong_ reached orbit?”

 **›** _Asharru reports the ship is now on its way to Sidon_ _. Yuán-Captain intends to survey the Vigilance in order to insure the pirates are unable to repair the damages Asharru inflicted on the vessel_. **‹**   After a brief pause, she added, **›** _I_ _am ready to leave the planet, Shadow Broker-_ _Traynor_. **‹**

I already had our next destination in mind.  “Very well, Irin.  Take us up to Grissom Academy.”

* * *

**♦ GRISSOM ACADEMY, ORBITING ELYSIUM · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA ♦**

Iringù-Eßizkur had touched down on the approach/departure ramp from hanger bay Foxtrot-Two, located close to the station’s main operations center.  Griff had decided to stay with Irin in order to research Kryllê Ghydgryz’s recent history while I deployed on the hover-bike, a conveyance whose appearance would be quite familiar to Major Alenko.  Once I was inside the climate-controlled hanger, Irin grounded the small transport and dissolved the kinetic bubble within which I was riding, allowing me to step off the evil-looking machine and walk up to the station’s entrance hatch; it opened before I was within five meters to reveal a smiling Kaidan Alenko.

“Welcome, Ms Traynor.  What brings you all the way here from the Citadel? … _and_ riding around in a Repository?”  Kaidan Alenko grasped both of my hands in an enthusiastic greeting; he was totally unprepared when I returned his greeting with a tight embrace.

Changing my position, I grasped both his arms as I said, “It’s really good to see you again, Major.  And I should think you’d recognize that Repository … we spent some time transferring equipment inside from Liara T’Soni’s quarters while we were docked inside Žiuk’Durmah.”

Kaidan’s warm chuckle became a cheeky grin as he replied, “Damned things all look alike to me, Traynor.  Nightmares from the black abyss.”

I grinned right back at him.  “I need to speak with you concerning my conveyance.”

His happy expression of welcome gave way to a look of curiosity mixed with concern.  “We don’t keep up with galactic news much these days; much too busy … virtually every waking minute, and most of the reporting is total rubbish.”  After pausing for a moment, he asked, “Has something bad happened, Specialist?”

“Nothing bad, Major … though I _will_ tell you I am no longer in the Alliance Navy, so you can simply refer to me by my name.”  I gave his sassy grin right back as I concluded, “Can we go somewhere private?  I have a lot of news to share with you, none of which I care to do publicly.”

* * *

I sipped fresh-brewed tea from the mug Alenko handed me as he remarked, “Somehow, I’m not surprised to learn you’re no longer in the Alliance, Samantha.  What _does_ surprise me is your appearance.  Your hair is longer than I remember, and that dark grey cloak, along with the armor and weapons underneath it … certainly not standard Alliance issue.”

“Captain Cody allowed me to keep my armor and take my weapons when I left the ship … well, he didn’t specifically say I could keep my weapons … they _are_ Alliance issue, but were all customized for me, so of no real use to anyone else.  The armor and duster are all from my time in Spec Ops, and pretty much my standard form of dress anytime I’m ashore.”

“You still haven’t told me why you chose to resign from the Navy, Samantha.”

Rising from my chair, I activated my omnitool and used it to scan the office for listening or recording devices.  Returning to stand in front of the major’s desk, I replied, “Please, call me Sammy … or Traynor, Sir.  As to the reason for my resignation, it’s simple.”  I returned to my chair, finished my mug of tea and spent the next thirty minutes telling the major all that had transpired since his transfer off the Normandy, beginning with my mission to assist Sandra Patton and Zaeed Massani in chasing down Vido Santiago, and ending with my resignation.

“As I said, my reasons were simple … and complicated, Major.  Before I say any more, I need to have your solemn vow that what I’m about to tell you will not leave this office.”  Adding, “It’s literally a matter of life and death, Sir … _my_ life, _and_ the life of my partner.”

Alenko’s eyes narrowed at my statement.  “Samantha … Sammy … I swear on my honor as an Alliance officer that anything you say to me will be held in strictest confidence.”

I chuckled lightly at that.  “Major, it’s been my experience that very few officers in the Alliance have _any_ honor at all, but …” I paused a moment at his instant expression of unhappiness.  “… that said, I _always_ found you to be an exceedingly honorable officer … _and_ a man of your word.” Looking down at my hands, I swallowed hard, then looked into the whiskey-brown eyes solemnly regarding me and said in a near-whisper, “I _am_ the Shadow Broker, Major.  It’s the reason I resigned from the Alliance.”

Kaidan immediately sat back in his chair to mutely contemplate me, as if I were some newly discovered form of alien intelligence … or had just crawled out from under a rock.  After a lengthy, uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.  “I never would have guessed you would abandon your Naval career in order to become an info broker, Sammy, especially after your recent promotion.  Who else knows about this?”

With a grim smile, I replied, “Spectre Shepard and Lady Liara, obviously; it was Liara who set me up – gave me access to the resources I needed.  My _Qíngrén_ aboard the Hong Kong, Captain Yuán; Captain Cody … he approved my resignation.  Admiral Hackett.  Iringù-Eßizkur still had all the equipment we transferred from the _Normandy_ … all of which I’ve since upgraded.”

Alenko continued to regard me, amazement and worry vying for dominance in his expression.  When he finally did speak again, it was to ask another question.  “You mentioned a partner?”

I smiled at this.  “Yes … I found my former Spec Ops teammate, persuaded him to partner with me … he’s inside Iringù-Eßizkur doing research as we speak.”  Crossing my arms across my middle, I added, “Griffen Buchanan … he was seriously injured at the end of the war, during the final push in London.  Alliance doctors couldn’t return him to a hundred percent, so rather than fly a desk, he took the medical discharge and monthly disability payment they offered.  He was working on a salarian freighter when I found ’im.” 

Kaidan nodded his understanding.  “A lot of soldiers were crippled during the war – some terribly so.”  Tilting his head slightly to the left, he asked in a soft voice that managed to convey concern.  “So, does Mr Buchanan have feelings for you, Sammy?”

I had to really concentrate to keep my mouth from falling open.  “Really, Major?”  Shaking my head slightly, I tried to explain something I was no longer sure of myself.  “Griff is my partner, and he loves me as if I were his sister, Mr Alenko … maybe more so.  That’s as far as our personal relationship goes … or has ever gone.  He would never violate my trust in ’im _that_ way.”

Even as I tried to explain, I knew I needed to sit Buchanan down and have a discussion with him, but that could wait.  Right now, I needed a favor. “Major, if it’s not too much trouble, I would like to meet with Jack.  I know she’s here – tracked her from Earth, shortly after you stopped in on Elysium to talk to Kahlee Sanders.  I believe Sanders accompanied Jack up here from her ruined home on the planet’s surface.”

Kaidan’s look of surprise was followed by smirking admiration.  “I guess you really must be the Shadow Broker if you’re aware of my visit … and Jack’s … to the Commander’s home on Elysium.  And your information is accurate – Kahlee _did_ accompany Jack up here from the planet.”  He opened his omnitool, made several entries, then closed the tool as he stood and motioned for me to follow.  “I’ll have Jack meet with you in a secure room down the passageway.”

I rose from my chair as I replied, “Thank you, Major.  I really appreciate your help … and your discretion.”

* * *

The small meeting room was comfortably furnished with a trio of upholstered chairs and a couple of tables.  Additionally, it had a viewport that looked out onto several of the close-by hanger ramps; of particular interest to me was the view it allowed of Iringù-Eßizkur, standing near the hanger bay door that had been my entry to the station.  I could faintly hear some of the sounds being generated by construction equipment, probably a level below me; I hadn’t seen much of the station, but the small sections I had seen appeared to be in good repair.  After scanning the room for listening devices, I returned to gaze out the viewport.

In less than five minutes, the entrance hatch—the reflection of which I could observe in the clear surface of the viewport—slid open to allow entry of the main reason I had wanted to visit this station.

Turning as she cautiously entered far enough for the panel to auto-close behind her, I waited for the woman to approach me a bit closer before saying, “Hello.  I’m Samantha Traynor … but you may call me Sammy … or Traynor, if you prefer.  How should I address you?”

The woman’s appearance appeared not to have changed much as I mentally compared her to a vid-still taken from the security footage I had hacked—her head was still mostly shaved to show the tattoos on the sides and back, with the short hair on top lengthening in the rear to form an insouciant ponytail.  However, the black eye-liner and bright red lipstick that had previously served to harden her features had been changed; the colors were softer—muted, even—although the distinct scars in the skin about her neck remained.

The biggest change to her appearance was the clothing she now wore – the unfastened long-sleeve leather vest with the pair of cloth strips that crisscrossed from her neck down across her chest were gone, replaced by a short sleeve, open-neck blouse.  A pair of regulation-cut trousers were tucked into a pair of heavy, knee-high boots equipped with thigh encircling, electronically-enhanced braces.

“Hello, Traynor … you can call me ‘Jack’ – simpler that way.”  She walked up to me as she stuck out a hand, which I grasped and pumped twice.  “Damn!  You have some real strength in that arm, Traynor.  I seem to recall you were some kind of specialist aboard the _Normandy_ during the war.  So, why are you here to see me?”

Motioning for her to sit in one of the chairs, I sat in the one closest and turned towards hers.  “I was a comms specialist on the ship … stayed on ’er through end of the war.”  I smiled at her as I observed, “Compared to vid-stills I’ve seen of you from shortly after you joined Shepard on the _Normandy_ for the Collector campaign, you look really nice, Jack.  Please excuse me for asking, but did the Alliance ask you to tone down the ‘biotic bitch look’ for your students?”

Stifling what I guessed was an impulse to smear me all over the walls and overhead, she gingerly took a seat as she responded with just a bit of heat, “Is that how you see me, Traynor?”

“Not at all, Jack … and I meant no offense.  But, you have to admit your provocative dress and makeup during the war was meant to shock people.” Seeing her relax ever so slightly, I added, “I came up here to meet with you, Jack, because I have a proposition for you.”  She did a good job of keeping her expression neutral, but I could see a subtle shifting in her posture.  With a smile, I added, “It’s not what you think, Jack.”

“What _do_ I think, then?”

“Relax, Jack … I’m only here to ask you to occasionally do some work for me.”  At the sudden frown, I added, “Nothing too difficult for a woman of your talents; I’m an info broker … resigned from the Navy after an assignment went sideways … landed my ass in a hospital for a month.”

“Would that hospital stay have anything to do with a recent assault on the Blue Suns in Delta Ward?” she asked with a smirk.  “It’s all ANN carried for three days after.”

It was my turn to look surprised.  “Alenko told me there wasn’t time for watching the news up here … and I’m surprised to know ANN would report that kind of thing so extensively, Jack.  What was the gist of their story, exactly?”  After listening to her reply, I took the time to explain the rationale that had led to me and Master Gunnery Sergeant Sandra Patton breaking into and eliminating a bunch of batarian members of the group, spoke of an explosion I mostly could not remember, and told of Zaeed Massani’s capture of the Suns’ number one and number two on Susskind Station … something ANN had completely left out of their extensive coverage.

She ratcheted the smirk up several notches as she said, “I wasn’t aware the Alliance trained lowly comms techies to be stone-cold killers, Traynor.  You really did all that?”

“I didn’t do that much, really,” I murmured.  “Sandee’s a Marine.  She did all the heavy-lifting … I was just along for the ride.”

“Uh-huh … save that modesty shit for someone that’ll believe you, Traynor.”  With a shake of her head, she added, “I have to think that a fucking macho-assed dirt bag like Vido Santiago wasn’t told that a couple of non-biotics—a pair of women, at that!—plowed through his Citadel HQ like an entire squad of Marines.”  Shifting in her chair, she crossed her arms over her chest and asked, “So, I can’t imagine the financial rewards of brokering information are that great … and yet, your attire … hell, your attitude … your confidence?  It doesn’t speak of someone that’s living hand-to-mouth.”

“Jack, I need you to swear that you will keep what I’m about to tell you strictly to yourself.”  I looked into her eyes, trying to determine if there was any subterfuge or dishonesty behind her hard stare.  “If my identity were to ever go public, my ability to do the work I do would not only become impossible, my continued personal safety outside my secure residence would become incredibly difficult to maintain.”

Surprising me, she arose and moved to stand in front of me; I stood as well, facing her close enough to catch just the faintest hint of eezo as she gripped my upper arms.  Speaking softly, she answered, “I’m sure you must have heard every wild-assed story there is about me, Traynor … Sammy.”  She didn’t blink or look away as she added, “Anything you tell me, Sammy … _anything!_ … will be safe with me.  I’d rather die than reveal a shared confidence.  I swear it.”

I believed her.  This wasn’t the same woman Shepard had rescued from the Blue Suns prison ship _Purgatory **;**_ fighting the Collectors as part of Shepard’s team … leading her kids against all kinds of Reaper spawn after Shepard’s help in kicking Cerberus off this station … it had all changed her … molded her into a slightly more civilized adult.  Taking the plunge, I whispered, “I am _the_ Shadow Broker, Jack.  My ride is just outside, parked on the hanger bay ramp.”

After taking the few steps to the viewport, I felt her arm brush mine as she quietly moved to stand beside me; her voice held a touch of awe as she quietly replied, “Helluva way to fly around the galaxy, Sammy.”  Turning her head to look at me, she continued, “You must have kicked the previous Broker’s ass if you’ve taken over his whole operation.”

Returning her steady gaze, I replied, “Didn’t have to do more than ask for it, Jack.  I’m the third Broker in the past several years … worked with the previous Broker for a time; _that_ person assumed the position after eliminating the long-time predecessor in his ship orbiting Hagalaz.”  Looking back at Iringù-Eßizkur, I added, “I have a partner … former teammate from my Spec Ops time in the Alliance.  He watches my six, steers me down a straight path when I attempt to stray.”  I went silent as I thought of Buchanan … of just how much he meant to me as a friend.

“So, what are you proposing?”

“I’d like to employ you as an agent … someone I can trust to gather data for me, from this station and from Elysium.”  Before she could turn me down, I added, “You’re not Alliance, Jack.  You can certainly take care of yourself, and you have a degree of independence from oversight that will be advantageous.”

“I already have a full-time job, Traynor; it’s really rare for me to have any free time.”

Surprised that she hadn’t simply turned me down, I replied, “My needs won’t interfere with your job here … I only need you to keep your ear to the ground, so to speak.  Anything out of the ordinary that you see or hear could be valuable info, Jack … and our arrangement will never be disclosed to anyone, not even Sanders or Alenko.”

“How will I communicate with you?” she asked.  “Everything received or sent by this station is monitored, and recorded.”

“I’ll give you a secure comms device … something I built; it’s similar to the one I gave to my _Inamorata,_ except it uses a different frequency.  It auto-encrypts each message you enter prior to transmission, and the encryption key auto-changes after each message is sent.  Any messages I send back are only decrypted after you enter your personal ID code.  It transmits everything in a micro-burst, so transmission times are minimal, _and,”_ I nodded towards the Repository outside, “it will only transmit to my own receiver inside Iringù-Eßizkur.”

Hoping to sweeten the offer, I had saved the best for last.  “I’m not asking you to help me out of the goodness of your heart, Jack … you will most certainly be compensated for your time.”

She returned her gaze to Iringù-Eßizkur; her facial expression—reflected in the clear panel—made me think she was contemplating everything she’d just been told and my offer of part-time employment as an agent for the Shadow Broker.  Turning back to face me, she said in a half-mocking tone, “You wouldn’t be shittin’ me, would you?  You’re really _the_ fucking Broker?”

“I wouldn’t travel all this way just to yank your chain, Jack.”  I needed to do something that would convince her I was serious.  “Tell you what … I’ll leave the device with you.  You can think about my offer … if you decide to accept, send me a message, and I’ll respond.”

Jack’s expression underwent a subtle change … from slightly mocking disbelief to thoughtful contemplation.  She finally looked down at her arms as she once again crossed them over her chest.  Turning away from me, she stepped slowly back towards the entry, there to stop, turn back to face me and say, “That’s really funny.  No one’s ever offered to pay me for being a snoop.”  With a heavy sigh, she said in a near whisper, “I don’t need to think about it, Sammy.  I believe you’re being straight with me.  Where’s this … device?”

With a smile, I activated my omnitool, its deep purple and ultraviolet glow casting strange shadows around the dimly lit room.  “Hey, Griff.  I need you to bring the package and meet me at the hanger entrance.”  Closing the tool, I looked up to see Jack’s expression of disbelief.

“That’s a Serrice Council omnitool, ain’t it?”  Her tone sounded accusatory.  “Those fuckers cost a small fortune!”

“Given to me by Serrice Council, during my Spec Ops training on Luna.  Keyed to my DNA, so totally worthless to anyone else, unless they need their hand amputated.”  I walked up to the door, which slid into its recess at my approach.  “Come on … let’s go to the hanger bay.  I’ll tell you a bit about my training.”

* * *

After giving the transceiver and access codes to Jack, I accompanied Buchanan back into Iringù-Eßizkur, there to grab a snack and send a message to my _Qíngrén_ aboard the _Hong Kong._

When she answered the call, she first told me about their actions at Elysium. _“We’re pretty much done dealing with the Blue Suns out here, Sà mǐ.”_   She looked down for a moment, as if reading from a datapad.  _“The Red Serpent tried to make a run for it as soon as they cleared the Utopia relay _… _big mistake. Noble Wyvern and Eva’s Smile capitulated after seeing that Cody meant business; Normandy blew the Serpent all to hell and damaged Dragon’s Avarice, probably beyond any hope of repair.”_

“Sounds as if _Normandy’s_ captain is dead serious about eliminating the Blue Suns from the galaxy.”  I paused for a moment, then suggested it might be useful for an Alliance representative to pay the station a courtesy call and visit.  “You would be able to give Admiral Hackett an unbiased report on the progress being made to return Grissom Academy to full functionality.”  I added in a slightly snarky tone, “Want me to see if there’s private accommodations here for the two of us?”

Xiùlán’s reply was preceded by a throaty chuckle. _“Let me make the request, Ai.  A place to stay the night there just might be a bit more spacious for a ship’s captain than it would for a civilian.”_   Xiùlán smiled in an uncharacteristically wicked manner as she added, _“When I speak with Major Alenko, should I also offer to have the ship’s communications specialist accompany me to, oh, I don’t know, inspect the deep space comms systems?”_

Totally unaware of the mutual interest between Miranda Lawson and Kaidan Alenko, I replied, “That sounds like a good idea, actually.  Shouldn’t be hard to convince the major to have an Alliance comms specialist inspect that gear.”  Pausing a moment to think about Xiùlán’s proposal, I added, “Give Alenko a call … let ’im know you plan to stop over for a day.”

After another chuckle, she confided, _“If Miranda comes ashore with me, she just may be sleeping in Alenko’s quarters.”_   Before I could gather my wits to comment on that little bit of information, she concluded with, _“See you soon,”_ and cut the connection.

_Shit!  I guess even the Shadow Broker cannot possibly know everything!_

* * *

 


	9. Visiting Lovers

_Kiss someone who makes you feel their magic in your bones, who makes you wonder how can someone who looks like witchcraft at midnight taste so holy_. – Nikita Gill

* * *

 ** _Ai_** **– [** 愛 - love] (whether spoken by Xiùlán or Samantha, the meaning is _‘luv’)_ ]  
**_Inamorata_** – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)  
**_Qíngrén_** – [情人 – lover]

* * *

**♦ GRISSOM ACADEMY · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA ♦**

Standing between Griffen Buchanan and Major Alenko, with Kahlee Sanders standing on Alenko’s other side, it was all I could do to contain my impatience as we waited for the _Hong Kong’s_ shuttle to enter and settle on the deck of the transient hanger bay.  Ostensibly, Xiùlán was visiting the station in order to see first-hand what progress had been made in repairing the damages inflicted by the Reapers … and by Cerberus before them.

That she was spending the night as a guest was the main reason I was so keyed up; fortunately, the only one that had noticed was Griff, who casually placed a calming arm behind me with his hand on my shoulder.  Leaning in towards me, he whispered, “Calm down, Sammy.  She’s almost here.”

Turning my head, I studied the caring grey-green eyes regarding me for a moment before responding with a whispered, “I’m trying, Griff … just seems like it’s been so damned long.”  Returning my attention to the viewport, I watched as the UT-47a slowly pierced the kinetic barrier; with its fore and aft thrusters firing intermittently, it settled gracefully to within a few centimeters of the deck before the pilot cut the ventral thrusters to ground the ungainly craft.

Kaidan moved to the hanger bay pedestrian entrance, which he opened as the shuttle’s near-side split-hatch lifted and slid rearwards, allowing Captain Yuán, Specialist Lawson and their shuttle pilot to step out of the craft.  Yuán approached Alenko with her right hand extended, saying, “Major … it’s good to see you again.”  Without a hint of the snarkiness I expected, she added, “I’m sure you remember Specialist Miranda Lawson; and this is the _Hong Kong’s_ co-pilot and navigator, Lieutenant Hall.”

Alenko took her hand and pumped it twice as he responded, “Welcome to Grissom Academy, Captain Yuán.  You already know Mr Buchanan and Ms Traynor.”  Indicating Sanders with his free hand, he added, “This is Staff Commander Kahlee Sanders … she’s in charge of the computer systems repairs and upgrades and station security.”

After introductions and greetings all around, Xiùlán and Miranda accompanied Alenko and Sanders for an abbreviated tour of the facility; Alenko explained the station was so large and damages done—first by Cerberus, then by the Reapers—had been so extensive, that only the central administrative core below the ‘tower’ and one of the four main wings extending from the central core had been repaired.  The outer reaches of the so-called ‘north/south’ main wings containing additional classrooms and dormitory units were still ‘open’ to space, with the inner sections protected by kinetic barriers.  The plan was for repairs to be extended outward, and only completed when they were able to employ more staff and enroll more students.  For now, the repaired east wing contained all the necessities – private quarters for instructors and staff, student dormitories, classrooms, and food service areas.

* * *

While the major played tour guide, I had accompanied Buchanan back to Iringù-Eßizkur in order to assist his search into Kryllê Ghydgryz’s recent history.  We both worked in silence for nearly two hours before Griff said, “Sammy, I want you to take a look at the file I just sent to your monitor … tell me what you see.”

I scrubbed through the displayed data concerning the batarian’s history over the previous five years; I had to skim through it twice before one line-item caught my eyes.  Buried in the middle of a long list of mundane records was the account code and location for a deposit of 65 million credits.  “Damn, Griff! You’re getting really good at this.”  Seeing the deposit record, I had to ask, “Any records concerning withdrawals?”

“Oh, yeah.  He was living large, Sammy … until he wasn’t.  Made some really foolish gambling bets, got into some serious financial problems.  Want to guess who his creditors were?”

“Blue Suns?”

“That’d be one of several.  Unfortunately for Mr Ghydgryz, at one point he was into Aria T’Loak for several hundred thousand.  Managed to buy his way out of _that_ debt shortly before going to work for the Suns.”

I thought about this as I continued to look at the data Griff had discovered.  “Aria T’Loak … definitely _not_ someone to forgive a debt … ever! … no matter how seemingly inconsequential.  That asari is involved in a lot of shady businesses, Griff.”  I looked down for a moment before turning my attention to my partner.  “While I was looking into her involvement in the legitimate sales of eezo, I discovered she’s been selling refugees into indentured servitude.”

“Now, if anything should be prohibited, _that_ should.  How does she get by with that?”

“A large number of people—humans, batarians, salarians—were displaced … made homeless … from the geth attacks on colony worlds such as Eden Prime, Noveria, and Virmire.  When they turned up on Omega Station with only the clothes on their backs, Aria paid their debts by selling the able-bodied among them to mobile work details.”  I used my right hand to scrub my face as I cupped that elbow in my left hand; leaning back in my chair, I added, “I believe a large percentage of the labor force that helped construct the _Keelah Si’Yah_ was provided in this manner.”

“My God, Sammy, that’s simply … appalling.  Do any of them ever walk free again?”  After a brief pause, he added, “And the _Keelah Si’Yah?_   Sounds quarian, but I never heard of that ship.”

I replied softly, “It _is_ quarian—built as part of the Andromeda Initiative—it was the sixth cryopod vessel to leave for that galaxy, several months before the Reapers invaded ours.”

“I heard about that program; briefly thought about joining them.”  With a firm shake of his head, he said, “But, setting out for a 600-year journey across dark space?  Not my cup of tea.”

I smirked as I said, “Still time to catch ’em if you want, Griff.  Just have to convince Žiuk’Durmah or Esiz’Qür to take you.  Probably get you there before the first ship arrives, but you’d still have to sleep … if that’s the correct word for being in cryo … for over 500 years.”

“Not going to happen,” came the snarky reply.  “You’re not getting rid of me that damned easily, Shadow Broker.”  Returning to our previous discussion, he asked, “About those people … any of them able to buy their way out of their contracts?”

“They’re all low-paid, semi-skilled laborers, so damned few can manage to pay off their debt _and_ pay for their room and board … but some manage it.  Once they’re done with a job, they move on to the next one.  There’s still a lot of construction going on at Hephaestus Station.”

Looking at Ghydgryz’s history with the Suns drew my thoughts back to K’ath Din’sari, the young batarian female that had been the go-between for his deal with the Suns.  _Ugrolya Rarfenak royally fucked her after she provided the setup.  Maybe he’s the creepy bastard I should be going after_.  I heard Griff say something; lost in my thoughts as I was, I had to ask him to repeat his question.

“I asked if you had seen this report concerning Zaeed Massani.”  Griff split his attention between me and the monitor in front of him, saying, “He left the Citadel shortly after you and Patton got out of the hospital.  A couple of our agents reported seeing him in the Terminus Systems … based on his travels, they feel he’s looking for mid-level Blue Suns leaders in the Enoch System and on the planet Sanctum, in the Decoris system.”

That last location got my undivided attention.  “Sanctum? Really? Early in the war, Alliance Intel learned of a Cerberus base—a research lab—on that freezin’ rock.  Shepard and her squad took it down after a really intense fire fight … far as I know, the Illusive Man gave up on the lab, but the Suns had their own place not too far from there.”  I thought about this for a few moments before saying, “Good work, Griff.  Tag Sanctum as a place we need to monitor.  If Zaeed is interested, I expect the Suns returned there in force immediately after the announcement of Jack Harper’s death.”

Griff replied with a grim smile, “Consider it monitored, Sammy,” as he made several entries in our joint database. 

* * *

Major Alenko had invited Griff and myself to the officer’s mess for a quiet dinner; it gave me the perfect excuse to once again wear my China blue and red plum shift dress and calf-hugging over-the-knee black suede boots that had so impressed Xiùlán when we had dinner on the Citadel.

The major had arranged for us to be seated in a manner that would facilitate intimate discourse; my _qíngrén_ was seated on my left, with Griff on my other side.  While it was true that I’d have preferred to have had dinner alone with Xiùlán, I was glad for the opportunity to listen in on the conversations taking place around me as we enjoyed our dinners.  Kahlee Sanders sat at the end of the table, with Griff on her left side and Major Alenko, seated next to Miranda, to her right.  Jack rounded out our little group; she was seated at the end of the table opposite Kahlee. 

It was obvious to me that Buchanan was enamored with Kahlee Sanders from the moment they were introduced; while she was about my equal in height and build, the woman’s pale blue eyes and naturally blond hair were an unusually rare addition to her genuine beauty.  During the main dinner course, I could just overhear Griff, sharing a bit of his own derring-do while involved in the Spec Ops program.  Kahlee seemed to be reciprocating with some of her pre-Sovereign history, when then Lieutenant David Anderson and Saren Arterius rescued her from a krogan bounty hunter.  They each spoke about batarians and seemed to be comparing notes concerning their mutual dislike of them as a race.

It was a bit more difficult for me to eavesdrop on Alenko and Miranda.  While Alenko looked rather serious in his dress uniform, Miranda was a vision in a sleeveless red dress trimmed in black, enough so that I asked Xiùlán if she thought I’d look good similarly dressed.

“She wore that little number first time Kaidan took her to dinner on the Citadel … right after she joined the Navy.  Wound up spending the night in his apartment.”  Xiùlán grinned at me for a moment before responding to my question.  “And no, I don’t think it would look as good on you … or me.  It’s really not your color, and I’m too tall and sinewy to properly fill it out.”

As I thought about her opinion, I continued eating, and was thinking about a second glass of wine while finishing my salad when Xiùlán whispered in my ear, “The major has reserved a stateroom for me tonight.  There’s more than enough room for you to stay with me, but only _if_ you’re so inclined.”

I flashed her a naughty grin as I responded, “Oh, I’m definitely inclined, _Ai_ … I just hope you’re ready for a virtually sleepless night … ’cause I’ve been saving up for this!”

After a quick glance at Miranda and Kaidan, I added, “Think she’ll be worth a damn tomorrow when you depart for home?”

“I believe Miranda has been saving up for tonight as well, Sà mǐ,” came the grinning rejoinder.  “She may not get as much sleep as she’d like, but I guarantee she will be stone cold sober.”

“Do you think she’s in love with the major?”

Xiùlán placed a bit of the rice that was part of her main dish in her mouth and chewed for a moment before taking a sip from her wine glass; she then whispered her reply.  “I don’t think she’s been involved with him long enough to have achieved that emotion, Sà mǐ.  She likes him … quite well, actually, but love?  I seriously doubt that’s happened yet.”

Miranda and Jack—in between eating their dinners—were also bonding, but in a different way.  Jack quietly offered an apology to Miri for having threatened to biotically smear her all over the bulkheads in her quarters on the _Normandy;_ Miranda apologized for Jack’s childhood suffering at the hands of Cerberus, even though she herself had been a child at the time.

Alenko took note of this, saying to both, “It’s wonderful that each of you have moved past your mutual dislike for each other.  Forgiveness is something I wish the galaxy could embrace … life in general could be so much better.”

At that, I placed my left hand, unseen, on an inner thigh while looking meaningfully at my _qíngrén;_ I was remembering that awful time on Arcturus Station—before the Reaper invasion—after my angry conversation with Xiùlán during her deployment on the _Tokyo_.  A pair of liquid, sable-brown eyes solemnly returned my gaze with an intensity that instantly caused my own eyes to start swimming; a warm palm and fingers lovingly covered my hand as she leaned towards me and breathed, “Sà mǐ, wǒ yǒngyuǎn shǔyú nǐ. [薩米，我永遠屬於你。– _I am yours forever, Sami.]_

It took an enormous amount of self-control to keep from breaking down at her expression of undying love for me; swallowing hard, I managed to find my voice in order to softly reply, “Wǒ quánxīnquányì dì ài nǐ, Xiùlán. [我全心全意地愛你，秀蘭。 _– I love you with all my heart, Xiùlán.]_

Major Alenko, being seated across from me, had heard our whispering and smiled as he glanced at each of us.  “Captain, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Ms Traynor so happy … it seems a shame she wasn’t able to transfer to the _Hong Kong.”_

Xiùlán responded with a small grin as she replied, “Sammy is exactly where her training and talents can be of the greatest benefit to the Alliance, Major … _and_ the galaxy.”  With a loving look directed at me, she added, “It actually would have been counter-productive for her to be assigned to my ship … her presence on board would make it difficult for either of us to focus on our jobs.”

Alenko nodded in seeming understanding, although I don’t believe he truly had any idea of the depth of our love for each other.  I totally agreed with Xiùlán’s assessment … she really _didn’t_ need a problem like me on the _Hong_ _Kong_.

* * *

Muted conversations continued around the table as after-dinner drinks were served.  I thought Buchanan’s grin would split his face when he was told Elasa was available – he had developed a taste for the asari beverage during Yuán’s hospital stay after our mission on Cartagena Station.  I recalled it as his beverage of choice the night we went to _The Smiling Tiger Tavern_ in Vancouver, after Alliance Command had allowed the Cerberus sponsored sabotage of the turian transport _MSV Anixara_ to proceed as planned.  Griff noticed my solemn demeanor as he turned towards me with his glass raised.  “To what should we drink tonight, Sammy?”

I forced myself to smile as I lifted my own glass of Serrice Ice Brandy and paraphrased what I’d said to him back then.  “Friendship, having each other’s backs … and continuing to live in spite of everything that’s happened in our lives!”  I touched the rim of my glass to his, then took a sip of the fine brandy; he mirrored my action, with the exception of taking a couple of swallows of the pale green beverage.

I continued to quietly sip my brandy as I studied the faces of first Jack, then Miranda and Alenko.  Even though he was having to share her with Jack, Kaidan was thoroughly enjoying Miranda’s company, all while she chatted away with the tattooed biotic as if she was a long-lost sister; I attributed this to the short-term effects of the alcohol imbibed by each of them, although I knew that Jack’s Cerberus enhanced biotics abilities quickly negated any lingering effects of over-indulgence in alcoholic beverages.  _Must be handy to have no worries about a morning-after hangover_.

Griff and Kay, seemingly having hit it off from the first moments of their introduction, appeared to be having a wonderful time, speaking about their experiences during the war as they were eating and drinking.  Watching and listening to them share their pre-war and wartime experiences, I was thrilled that Griff had met someone with whom he could share his escapades.

Finishing my drink, I excused myself as I slid my chair back and stood.  “Major, I really enjoyed having dinner here tonight; I’m going back to Iringù-Eßizkur in order to grab a couple of items I forgot to bring ashore, then turn in for the night.”

What I didn’t reveal was that I also planned to check my info-feeds in order to be sure nothing required the immediate attention of the Shadow Broker.  I placed a hand on Griff’s shoulder as he began to rise.  “No need for you to go with me, Griff.  Stay and enjoy yourself.”  I nodded towards Alenko, who had partially risen as I stood, glanced meaningfully at Xiùlán, then left the dining area for the hanger bay where Irin’s hover-cycle was parked.

* * *

Miranda had strolled hand-in-hand with Kaidan through a rather long passageway; she was totally amazed when he led her through a doorway into the atrium, a vast, park-like area laid out on several levels, with grass, shrubs and a rather large lake.

“It’s unfortunate we cannot spare more than minimum resources to bring this area back to its former glory … at least, not yet.  We’ve occasionally worked to clear some of the debris, but damages caused by Cerberus troops during their attempt to kidnap our biotics students are quite extensive.”  She looked about as he pointed out some of the places where weapons fire had fractured stonework and shredded some of the larger plants.

“It must have been beautiful, Kaidan … reminds me somewhat of the Presidium on the Citadel.”

“The designers took a lot of their cues from that place—not to recreate it, really—more to pay homage to it.  It was a way for people that had grown used to the Presidium to feel more at home out here over Elysium.”

She looked about as they sat on a bench on the upper promenade.  The impacts of the massive firefight with the enemy were many – some less subtle than others.  “I’d like to visit again, once this has all been repaired and refurbished.”

Alenko chuckled at that.  “Once we’ve completed repairs to the main classrooms and living areas on the north end, we’ll have the capacity for many more people to live here.  I don’t expect the atrium will be so peaceful, and deserted, as it is right now.”  Standing, he held out a hand for Miranda. As she took his hand and rose from the bench, he encircled her waist with his arms, drew her close and said, “I know it’s been a while, Miri.  Just wondering if …”

“Shut up and kiss me, Major.”  The instant shock in the whiskey-colored eyes gave way to amused understanding as he met her lips with his own. She relished the taste of his mouth as she savored the slowly building desire in her core and ended the kiss by gently grasping his lower lip in her teeth and sucking on it like a sweet, tasty morsel before releasing it with a moist pop.  With an innocent smile, she said, “Walk me back to my quarters, Major?”

Alenko grinned as he turned her partway in his arms, slid a hand down her back—there to slide along the upper swell of her butt until he could grasp her waist at the hip—and began walking towards the hatch they’d used to enter the atrium.  Miranda had an arm behind Kaidan, where she employed her thumb to hook the waistband of his slacks in order to keep him pulled as close to her as possible.

They strolled in companionable silence until they reached the door to her guest quarters.  Miranda retrieved her arm and waved her omnitool through the red glow of the haptic lock.  As it cross-faded to green and the door slid aside, she turned towards her companion.  With a quick peck on his cheek, she whispered, “You know, it’s not that late, Major, and we haven’t seen each other for quite some time.  I would really like to visit you in your quarters for just a bit.”

Alenko didn’t have to think about his reply.  “Of course, Miranda.  That would be wonderful.”

With a devilish grin, she said, “Great!  Just let me grab my shoulder bag.”

* * *

Xiùlán met me in the airlock as I returned astride Iringù-Eßizkur’s malevolent looking hover-bike.  I had checked my numerous info-feeds for anything demanding the immediate attention of the Shadow Broker; having seen nothing that could not wait until the morning, I walked up to my _Inamorata_ with a cheeky grin.  “I’m yours for the evening, my darling.”

A cool hand grasped mine as she turned towards the nearby residential section; I heard a promise, half-whispered in the stillness.  “An evening isn’t nearly long enough for what I have planned for you, Sà mǐ.”  She smirked as she added, “Although, it won’t be quite the challenge it could have been, given that you’ve worn that dress and boots before.”

It could have been the alcohol I’d consumed that made me giggle.  “I’m sure I do not know what you’re speaking about, Captain.”  I adopted my best ‘innocent me’ face as I half-turned towards her and said, “You almost make it sound like you believe me to be a loose woman.”

“‘Loose woman’ is the last thing that comes to mind when I think about you, Sà mǐ … and I meant what I said to Alenko at dinner – having you on the _Hong Kong_ would make it nearly impossible for me to focus on my job … not to mention the regs concerning fraternization.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m no longer in the Navy, Ai.  Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for bedding the likes of me.”

I had said it jokingly, but Xiùlán paused and turned towards me.  “Sà mǐ, don’t … not even in jest.  The moment General Park endorsed my promotion, we were in violation of regs.  I don’t know why the General, Admiral Hackett and Captain Cody all looked the other way … was it because we were already in a relationship? … maybe out of respect for our previous achievements?  No matter now … and others would not have been so tolerant of our breach.”  With a slight huff of exasperation, she added, “I have never regretted nor been ashamed of falling in love with you, Sà mǐ … never!  Your love is the best thing that ever happened to me!”

“I’m sorry, Xiùlán … I didn’t mean it like that; after all this time, I would like to think you know me better.  And why are we even talking about this?”

We had been walking the entire time we were talking; coming to a halt outside her guest quarters, she keyed the hatch with her omnitool and ushered me inside.  Picking up where she left off, she said, “Your comment about no longer being in the Navy is why we’re discussing this, _Ai_.”  Facing me, she took my hands and solemnly said, “When you resigned your commission, I actually felt as if you were leaving _me_ behind as well.”

“Oh, Xiùlán … I couldn’t … damn it to hell, I would _never_ do that to you … not after breaking your heart on Arcturus Station.  You own me, darling, body and soul.  I would do anything for you … _anything!_   Don’t you ever doubt that … and never, _ever_ hesitate to ask!”  I brought my arms around her back as I applied my lips in an attempt to hungrily devour her mouth.

Her surprise at my sudden attack quickly turned to eager acceptance as she used her tongue to compete with mine for dominance.  Our breathing became labored to the point we had to break apart; our noses were not capable of delivering the oxygen needed to keep our brains conscious while we kissed.  “Come on, then,” she whispered in a coquettish tone.  “We may as well try out the bed.”

* * *

Alenko poured a splash of whiskey each into a pair of tumblers; taking a sip from his own glass, he reached out to hand the other glass to Miranda as she walked up to the small counter.  “It’s sipping whisky, Miri … TM88 Peruvian, to be precise.”

Lawson wrinkled her nose as she sipped some of the fiery, caramel-colored liquid.  “Oof,” she murmured.  “This stuff is _not_ for the weak, Major.”  Taking another sip, she closed her eyes and tried to breathe as the liquid burned its way down to her stomach.  “Damn!  That is some seriously good shit!”  Setting her glass on the counter, she looked at Kaidan from under her eyebrows and asked, “So, what are your intentions tonight, Major?”  As he put his glass to his lips, she asked, “Would you like for me to spend the night with you?”

Alenko nearly choked on his whiskey at her bold question.  After recovering from the coughing fit brought on by carelessly swallowing the pungent liquid, he fixed her with a hard stare and said, “Only if that’s _your_ desire, Miri.”  Taking a quick glance at the couch behind her, he added, “But if you _do_ choose to stay, I’ll tell you now that I don’t intend to cede my bed to you; I hope you’re ready for company.”

Miranda slowly moved around the counter to come up against Kaidan, who turned to meet her advance; she responded by wrapping her arms around his back and pulling him in tight.  With a whispered, “It’s been a long time since I’ve made love to a man, Kaidan.”  Tilting her head slightly, she breathed, “I want you, Major,” then slowly, thoroughly kissed him.  After what felt like a lifetime to Alenko, she unhurriedly pulled away and said, “I know you’re afraid you might break me, Kaidan, but I’m not a porcelain figurine.  In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a flesh and blood human female.”  With the beginnings of a snarky grin, she added with a tiny giggle, “Well now, I _do_ believe you have noticed that fact after all.”

She ground her pelvis against the swelling member pressed hard against her and added, “I think we need to get undressed, Kaidan, while I still possess the patience to keep from ripping your clothes off.”  Releasing him, she grabbed her glass, downed the remainder of the liquid and set it down with a loud clunk, then turned and sauntered towards the bedroom, making sure to maximize the seductive sway of her hips.  Kaidan watched for a moment as if mesmerized, then quickly followed her into the room.

Miranda had paused within a couple of steps of the bed; with her back to him, she looked over her shoulder to ask, “If you would be so kind?”

With a start, Kaidan realized she was requesting help with her zipper.  Placing his hands on her shoulders, he nuzzled the side of her neck.  “Forgive me … I’m totally out of practice.”

She kissed the hand on her right shoulder before answering.  “There’s nothing to forgive, Kaidan … I haven’t had any practice at this for a number of years, and we have all night to learn as much as we can about each other.  We’ll just take things slow.”

With a small chuckle, he unfastened the small hook from the matching eye above the closure, then gripped the top edge of her dress with one hand while using his other to slowly lower the zipper.  “Seems I helped you with this dress once before … on the Citadel.  He inhaled in rapt awe as he caught sight of the flawless, bare skin above and below the back band of her bra.  She turned to face him as she pulled the dress away from her chest; drawing her arms from within the sleeves, she eased the bodice down to her waist, then bent slightly as she lowered the garment down her legs, stepped out of it and stood back up.  Placing a hand on her hipbone, she cocked back on that leg to proudly display her body—now clad only in a low-cut black bra, a pair of ‘barely there’ black panties, and high heels—to an appreciative man.

Glancing down at her nearly nude torso, she grinned at Kaidan’s wide-eyed stare.  “I’d have to say, Major … it appears you approve of how I look in only my underwear.”  Turning, she stepped over to the closet, hung her dress within, then removed her shoes before stepping back to the bed; taking a seat, she crossed one leg over the other and looked at him through her lashes. Gripping the edge of the mattress with her hands beside her thighs, she whispered, “Your turn, Alenko … time for me to see just how much you approve of what I’ve revealed to you.”

Kaidan jumped slightly.  “Here I thought I would be leading you tonight, Specialist.”  He began releasing fasteners on his jacket as he spoke; after hanging it in the closet, he pulled his boots and socks off before unfastening and removing his dress trousers.  Hanging them with his jacket, he turned to face her while removing his dress shirt; after pulling his undershirt off over his head, he tossed both garments into the corner, then placed his hands on his own hips and waited.

Miranda stood up; taking a step forward, she used her palms to cover his nipples.  “You are put together quite well, Major.”  She slowly slid her hands down, moving them apart as they descended, until they rested on his hips; she used her improvised handholds to pull him to her, pressing her bosom gently against his well-developed pecs.  Tilting her head, she reached in and caressed his lips in a soft, lustful kiss; this caused the object of her desire to stiffen further in warm anticipation.

Alenko broke the kiss and quickly nuzzled her neck, took a quick breath of air and as quickly blew it out across the smooth expanse of the lightly scented skin where her neck met her shoulder and back.  “Dammit, Miranda … I have never wanted anyone the way I want you right now.”  Moving carefully, he slid both hands up between them until he could palm her breasts through the cups of her bra.

A sensual whisper, accompanied by intermittent little nibbles on his earlobe, warmed his cheek enough to make him flush in heated anticipation. “Far be it for me … a mere Navy chief warrant officer … to tell you … a Marine major … how to proceed, but … wouldn’t you rather feel _bare_ skin under those hands?”  She continued to nibble as she added in a seemingly shy breath, “I can promise you I would enjoy those hands so much more if they could caress my breasts without any interference.”

If Kaidan was surprised by this revelation, he gave no indication as he used the garment to guide his hands around her ribcage until they met in the center of her back; he nearly embarrassed himself, fumbling slightly with the hook and eye closures.  With these released, he slowly slid each strap off her shoulders; in turn, Miranda gracefully pulled her arms one at a time up and out of the loops.

Backing a step away from him, she slowly lowered the cups to reveal a pair of aroused nipples.  Tossing the bra onto the nearby dresser, she once again closed the distance between them, saying, “Well?  What do you think?”

Kaidan gently cupped each of Miri’s breasts in his hands and softly thumbed a pair of needy buds.  “You are beautiful, Miranda, exquisitely so … and saying so doesn’t even _begin_ to do you justice.”

With a smirk, she leaned into his hands slightly, brushed his lips with hers and breathed, “Come on.  Let’s see how well we fit together in that bed.”

Kaidan pulled Miranda along as he turned and backed up two steps to sit on the edge of the bed; with her navel at eye level, he used a finger on each hand to hook the waistband of her panties.  Placing a kiss on her taught belly, he pulled them down past her hips until—with a shimmy of her thighs—the flimsy fabric could free-fall down her legs and puddle at her feet.  Without hesitation, he buried his nose and mouth in the neatly trimmed thatch of curly hair guarding her warm center, there to inhale her scent and place a kiss of promise.

Raw heat flooded Miranda’s core; she could feel a touch of anticipatory slickness forming as she shuddered, nearly coming undone at the proximity of his mouth to her mons.  Reaching down, she used the palms of her hands against his upper arms to encourage him to stand; once he was on his feet, she crouched in front of him and relieved him of his skivvies.  He gasped as cool fingers encircled the length of his fully erect member; it was all he could do to restrain himself from climaxing right then.

She rose to follow as he sat, then reclined on the bed; he reached up to encourage her to lie down beside him.  The cool fingers, having been somewhat warmed from grasping his organ, found their target again, but instead of lying beside him, she threw a leg across him to squat astride his hips, then deftly guided him into the entrance of her wet heat; after moving her hips back and forth slightly to get settled, she gasped as he slid fully inside her. Bending over at the waist, she locked her mouth over his and slid her tongue deep between his lips as she settled her pelvis into a slow, grinding rhythm. Kaidan palmed Miri’s ample breasts as he attempted to keep himself in check.  It had been so damned long—before the Reaper War … before the Collectors—since he had been with a woman.  She seemed to know exactly what she was doing … using the slick tightness of her throbbing core to stroke his hardened shaft up to the ragged edge of climax.  He tensed a little when she lifted her torso slightly and panted, “Tell me what you’re feeling …”

It took only a moment for him to understand … she abruptly straightened up and threw her head back.  With a guttural growl, she climaxed; Kaidan was sure he could feel the rhythmic pulse of biotics enhancing the muscular contractions of her vaginal walls.  Without any conscious thought, his own hips bucked in sweet release as he attempted to bury every centimeter of himself inside her; seconds seemed like minutes as he ejaculated in seemingly endless contractions.

When he finally collapsed underneath her, she leaned down, placed her lips on his in a soft kiss, then panted in a hoarse whisper, “That … was the fucking! best! sex! ever!”

“Agreed.”  Kaidan would not argue with her assessment; feeling his erection slowly subsiding, he noted with some surprise that he wasn’t sliding out of her as he expected … not that he would complain about it.  Still, he had to ask.  “Um, Miri … are you … holding on to me?”

With a tiny giggle, she carefully eased her bottom up from his pelvis, then cupped a hand against her wet entrance as she swung a leg across him. Cautiously getting off the bed, she continued to grin as she walked to the bathroom.  After several minutes, Kaidan faintly heard her as she turned the water on in the shower.  “Care to join me?  I’ll let you wash my back.”

* * *

Miranda snuggled her nude body against Kaidan’s equally bare anatomy; using a thumb, she teased one of his nipples erect, just to see if she could.  A hand sleepily grabbed hers as a whispered protest fluttered the hair on top of her head.  “You must realize that what you’re doing has a similar effect further down.”

With a disbelieving giggle, she slipped her other hand down past his navel to discover a slowly growing erection.  “Damn, Kaidan!  I didn’t realize how easy it is to arouse you.”  In a tone suggesting apologetic embarrassment, she asked, “Didn’t I already satisfy you tonight?”

The chuckle she received provided the answer to her query.  “Miranda, I can honestly say that having sex with you just one time makes the few other times I’ve been with a woman pale in comparison.”  After a brief pause, he added, “Now, that hand on my package leads me to wonder if you are looking for an encore performance.”

Raising her head from his shoulder, she leveled steel-blue eyes at whiskey-browns for a moment before reaching in to plant her lips on his mouth. Gently gripping, then releasing his lower lip with her teeth as she withdrew, she continued to slide her fingers back and forth along his length as she said, “We’re both still nude, Alenko … and I’m not sleepy just yet.”  Releasing him, she brought her arm up to snake over his chest and under his arm.  Hand slightly under his back, she pulled him towards her until he was partially on top of her.

With a husky whisper of, “Take me, Kaidan,” she moved her free leg away, giving him the space to roll the rest of the way on top of her; she then reached down between their bodies to guide him once more into her moist center.

* * *

Kahlee Sanders had spent the evening after dinner with Griffen Buchanan; she had taken him on a short tour – similar to the tour Alenko had given Miranda – before settling into one of several lounges to share in quiet conversation and drinks.  She had done most of the talking – mostly about her past, before the Reapers, the Collectors, and Sovereign – not realizing that Buchanan had a rare gift for remembering the most innocuous of details.  In turn, he had shared a little bit of his own history in the Alliance before the war.

Returning from a trip to the powder room, she took note of a chrono and gasped at the lateness of the hour.  Retaking her seat across from Griff … as he insisted she refer to him … she picked up her nearly empty glass, drained the contents in one swallow, the set it back on the table while saying, “I have really enjoyed spending the evening with you, but it’s quite late, Griff.  Would you be terribly offended if I retired for the evening?”

Buchanan glanced at the chrono mounted over the door with a start.  “Damn!  I had no idea it was so late!  My apologies for keeping you out into the wee hours, Kay.”  Griff stood from his chair and reached down, where he gently took Sanders’ hand and assisted her to her feet.  “Do you need me to walk with you back to your quarters?”

Sanders showed her teeth in a wide grin.  “If we were on Omega, or even on the Citadel, I’d certainly say yes, but here? … on this station?  I appreciate the offer, Griff, but you’re a visitor … I don’t expect you know your way around this place.  Should I accompany you back to your guest quarters?  Or will you be staying aboard that evil-looking machine?”

“You may accompany me to my quarters, Ma’am.  Captain Yuán and Specialist Lawson are the Major’s guests tonight, and I believe that Sammy is spending her evening with the captain.”  Griff chuckled lightly, then added, “I’ve actually grown accustomed to living inside a former Reaper … plenty of room inside, even for someone my size.  Still, it will be nice to sleep ashore for a change.  Not many opportunities these days.”

Kahlee smiled, waved a hand to indicate the way down the passageway while covering a sudden yawn with the other and said, “Let’s be off, then.  0700 will be upon me before I know it.”

Griff studied her pale blue eyes as he replied, “For me as well, Kay … for me as well.”

* * *

 


	10. Back To Work

_Ghosts of the person you used to be are so proud of who you are, they live on inside you applauding you for living on despite your scars. —_  Nikita Gill, _Wild Embers_

* * *

**_Ai_** **– [** 愛 - love] (whether voiced by Xiùlán or Samantha, the meaning is _‘luv’)_ ]  
**_Inamorata_** – A woman with whom one is in love; a female lover (Italian)  
**_Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _‘Erin’_ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _‘Iringù-Eßizkur’_  
**_Míngbái wǒ_** – [明白我 – understand me] Usually put forth as a question, as in _‘Do you understand me?’_  
**_Qíngfū_** – [情夫 – lover]  
**_Qíngrén_** – [情人 – lover]

* * *

**♦ GRISSOM ACADEMY · VETUS SYSTEM, PETRA NEBULA ♦**

I stood transfixed in the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom of my _Qíngrén’s_ guest suite, simply enjoying the view of a still sleeping—and very nude—Yuán Xiùlán.  As I studied the greens and golds of the very large dragon tattoo peeking out from under the sheet lying diagonally across her muscled back and shoulders, it dawned on me that, after all this time, I _still_ could not look at her sleeping form without feeling a nearly overwhelming sense of yearning … bordering on pain … in the center of my chest.

Eyes brimming with moisture, I forced myself to move fully into the room, where I gingerly grasped the upper edge of the sheet and gently folded it down to reveal an exceptionally firm butt at the top of an amazingly toned pair of legs.  My careful observation of Xiùlán’s face was rewarded as a pair of firmly pressed together lips increasingly frowned; this frown was quickly followed by a hand, blindly reaching out to reclaim her sheet.

Failing in the attempt, slanted eyelids covering a pair of sleepy, sable-brown eyes slipped open just enough for the slumbering woman to view the reason for her suddenly bare … and cold … posterior.  “What the ’ell, Sà mǐ?” she croaked.  “It cannot possibly be time to be awake.”

Leaning over her, I gently buried my fingers in the cleft of her arse to grab the butt cheek closest to me.  This brought a smile to her face, crinkling the skin beside her eyes.  “As much as I hate to admit it, the time is 0705, _Ai_.”  I slid my free hand under her torso to fondle a breast, causing her to gasp in surprise.

“Dammit, Sà mǐ!  You keep pushing my buttons like that, I cannot be held responsible for my …” 

Her protest faded to silence as I kneeled beside her and placed my mouth over hers in a passionate kiss.  Pulling back slightly to catch my breath, I whispered, “Warning received and understood, my darling.”  I relocated the hand I was using to hang onto her ass, sliding it across the smooth, taut curve to end up on a prominent hipbone, where I pulled and shoved lightly, rolling her up on her side.  I followed quickly, stretching out full length against her with a thigh pressed in between her legs.  “This is probably the last time we’ll be physically together until you’re able to take some time off, Luv.”  By this time, my groin was seemingly on fire, even as I felt a bit of moisture slicking my inner thighs.  “I don’t intend to waste a single minute of our together time!  I need you to make love to me, Xiùlán … right now!”

An arm came up and over me to pull me in closer; I melted into her embrace as she breathed, “I am yours, Sà mǐ.”  Xiùlán wrapped me up in her arms and held on tightly as she used her scarred left thigh to pleasure me; I must have been on the ragged edge when I climbed into bed with her, so was totally unprepared for the intensity of my release.  I yelped in surprise as my entire body shuddered from the intense, multiple waves of ecstasy churning through me.

As my body finally relaxed, I became aware that Xiùlán was panting as if she had just sprinted a hundred meters.  I cupped her face in both hands and planted a soft kiss on her lightly freckled nose.  “Damn, Luv!  Soon as I think we’ve gone over the top, I get surprised.  I truly believe we will never reach that pinnacle again, but hell … just gives us both something to shoot for next time, right?”  Before she could answer, I tentatively touched my lips to the lush sweetness of my _Inamorata’s_ mouth, then eased away to gaze into the inky pools of her eyes.

“Sà mǐ, měi cì wǒmen zuò'ài, wǒ dū hěn kāixīn! [薩米，每次我們做愛，我都很開心！– _Sami, every time we make love, I am very happy!]_   That we have to be apart so many weeks and months at a time just makes what we do when we’re together that much sweeter.  There are no words … in Mandarin, or Galactic … that adequately describe how much your love means to me, darling, but you need to know … ”  Xiùlán’s voice hitched slightly and her eyes clouded with moisture; with a bit of effort, she swallowed, but her voice was still squeaky as she concluded, “I would do anything for you, Sà mǐ … if I had to die to keep you safe … to keep you alive, I would not hesitate to do so.”

As always, hearing her declare her love for me … in _that_ way … made my heart ache; I couldn’t help but respond in a similar manner.  “Xiùlán, I don’t intend for you to ever need to go that far for me.  I can’t imagine a future for me that doesn’t include you in it, míngbái wǒ?  You dying to keep me alive? … that would absolutely be the death of _me_ , my love.”  Holding her close, I poured every bit of my love into the kiss I gave her.  Pulling back, I breathed, “Xiùlán, wǒ de shēngmìng shǔyú nǐ.  [秀蘭，我的生命屬於你 – _Xiùlán, my life belongs to you.]_

Groaning in mixed desire and frustration, she squeezed me tight as she returned my kiss, then let go and slid off the bed to stand beside me, there to place her body fully on display for me.  “I have to shower and get dressed, _Ai_.  I have a ship to run … it’s time for me to return to work.”

* * *

I nudged Xiùlán in the ribs as we entered the officer’s mess.  Miranda and Kaidan were seated across from each other engrossed in quiet conversation as they ate their breakfast.  At the other end of the table, Buchanan was sitting across from Kahlee Sanders; both were quietly talking as they enjoyed each other’s company, and what appeared to be their second coffees of the morning.

Xiùlán and I filled our trays and went to sit at a different table … the only table with just one diner.  Sitting next to her, with Xiùlán taking a seat across from the two of us, we each offered her a good morning.  “I was hoping to run into you before I had to leave, Jack.  Do you have any questions for me before I head back to the Citadel?”

The woman looked me up and down with an appraising eye; after giving Xiùlán the once over as well, she grinned at me as she spoke in a quiet tone, “You two have been fucking each other’s brains out, haven’t you?”

I glanced at my _Qíngrén_ , whose face was rapidly turning pink.  Cocking my head as I began eating, I fixed the tattooed woman with a hard stare and replied, “As a matter of fact, we have.  We’re lovers, Jack.  That’s just one of the ways we express our love for each other.”

Jack must have expected me to deny her accusation; her face registered shock that I would so readily admit to having sex with another woman … and an Alliance captain at that. “Sonuvabitch, Traynor.  You don’t pull any punches, do you!?”  After a few moments, she continued.  “Must be difficult … you on the Citadel, or wherever you and that creepy machine call home …” she nodded in Xiùlán’s direction, “ … and your lover on a Navy frigate.  How do you stay sane in between … you know … opportunities?”

I showed my teeth in a wicked grin as I replied, “I don’t know about Xiùlán, but me?  I masturbate … regularly!”  Jack’s mouth fell open, as if to say ‘Oh-h-h’, though no sound emerged.  I thought Xiùlán was going to explode from her efforts to maintain a straight face as I finished with a question of my own.  “Why do you ask?  How do you maintain _your_ sanity, Jack?”

Unfortunately, Jack had just taken a swallow from her mug; she exploded in a coughing fit as a bit of liquid went down the wrong way.  Regaining control of her spasming diaphragm, she gasped, “I really don’t think I need to answer that question for you, Traynor.”  After drinking a bit more coffee, this time without choking on it, she set her mug down and eyed each of us in turn before adding, “I’ve never met anyone like you, Sammy.  I wish you lived a bit closer – I think I’d enjoy getting to know you better.”

I grinned at her.  “In reality, we’re only a few hours apart … and I’d like to know you better as well, Jack.”  I took a bite of jam covered toast, chewed and swallowed before adding, “Too bad you weren’t on the _Normandy_ during the Reaper War.  It was a harrowing ride … I spent the entire war and a few months after not knowing if my _Qíngfū_ was alive or dead.”  Looking at Xiùlán, I concluded, “I can honestly say it sucked, in every way imaginable.  Worst time of my life.”

Xiùlán added, “I, too, spent the war not knowing if Sà mǐ had survived the attack – she was on the ground in Vancouver when the bastards arrived.”  With a loving glance that increased my heartrate, she added, “Not knowing what had happened?  It really _did_ suck … for both of us!”

“Qíng … Qíngfū?”  Jack struggled to wrap her tongue around the Chinese word.  “My translator must have crapped out … you’ll have to tell me what that means.”

“Nothing wrong with your translator, Jack.  It’s Mandarin … Chinese language … means ‘lover’.”

Jack shook her head slightly; finishing her coffee, she set the mug down, looked at Xiùlán and said, “Interesting.  You two are able to converse in an ancient Earth language that the best auto-translator computers we possess are unable to decipher.  That must really come in handy.”

Xiùlán replied quietly, “Tā zài hěnduō chǎnghé duì wǒmen hěn yǒuyòng.” [它在很多場合對我們很有用ₒ]  With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she explained, “Means _‘It is very useful to us on many occasions’_.  Unfortunately, Sà mǐ has a ways to go before she can carry on even a simple conversation in Mandarin.”

I nodded my head as I said, “I’m just another illiterate Xīfāng rén [西方人] … uh, Westerner … when I visit her parents in Shanghai.”

“They survived the war?”

“They did … somehow.  Shanghai’s a port city, so got pounded pretty hard by the Reapers, same as Vancouver.”

Jack’s gaze fell on Xiùlán again.  “Nice to learn that your parents are alive, Captain.”  She paused for a moment before abruptly pushing back and standing.  “I have to get to work.  Classes to teach.”  Holding out a hand, she said, “It’s really nice to know you, Captain Yuán.”  She pumped Xiùlán’s hand twice, then reached out to me; grabbing my forearm just below the elbow, she held on as she reached around with her left arm to partially embrace me.  As our shoulders made contact, she placed her cheek against mine; with her mouth beside my right ear, she whispered, “It’s really good to know you as well, Traynor … I’ll be in touch.”  Releasing me, she took her tray to the cleanup area, looked at each of us for a moment, then was gone.

“Interesting woman, Sà mǐ.”  Xiùlán sipped from her mug.  “I know nothing of her background, yet, when I look at her, all I see is pain.  There’s a lot of hurt buried under those scars and tattoos.”

“You have no idea, Xiùlán.  Cerberus kidnapped her from her parents when she was a child … made them believe she had died from eezo-induced cancer.  They took her to a secret lab … experimented on her … and others … all in an effort to create a human weapon with super biotic abilities.”  Shaking my head in a sorrowful manner, I added, “Miranda knows her history better than I, but even _she_ wasn’t privy to all the shit Cerberus inflicted on her.”

“Is ‘Jack’ her real name?”

“No one knows … not even Jack.  Short for Jacqueline, perhaps?  She was known as ‘Subject Zero’ during her stay at the Teltin facility on Pragia; uses ‘Naught’ as a surname when she needs one.”  I sighed heavily as I thought of a defenseless child being tortured by so-called adults working for Cerberus.  “I’m surprised she’s so … calm, after all the shit they put her through.”

“That stability is fragile, Sà mǐ.  If not for her position here as an instructor … with young biotics to mentor … I fear what she could become.  I’ll talk to Miranda once we’re back on the ship … learn what I can, just to satisfy my own curiosity.”  Glancing at a chrono, she finished her tea, slowly stood and said, “I should get going, Sà mǐ … need to return to the Citadel, submit reports about our mission out here.  I’ll use the travel time to write them.”

With a brief chuckle, I replied, “I probably should grab Buchanan and get going as well.”

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, AT LARGE ♦**

“I’ve never met anyone like her, Sammy.”  Griffen Buchanan was telling me of his lengthy conversations with Staff Commander Kahlee Sanders during our visit to Grissom Academy.  “She was posted to the Alliance research base on Sidon in 2165 … left after ten years for a five year stint as a freelance consultant, before being recruited to a position working with young biotic students on Grissom Station’s Ascension project.”

“Sounds like you two hit it off, Griff.”  I took a sip of tea as I thought about Sanders’ background.

“I really don’t think she’s in my league, Sammy.  She is just so … scary smart … very much like you in her knowledge of tech.  She actually designed and built a special L3 implant specifically calibrated for Jack … boosted her abilities to a level higher than the L5 unit with which she had been previously equipped.”  Griff took a couple of bites of a sweet roll, followed by some coffee as he thought about the woman.

“Just because she’s smart doesn’t mean you can’t be friends with her, Griff.”  I finished my tea, set the mug down and fixed him with a sharp stare.  “Do you realize how special you are to _me?_   I love you, Buchanan … like the big brother I never had.  If I wasn’t in love with Xiùlán … I might even have a difficult time maintaining our professional relationship as data brokers.”

“Love comes in many varieties, Sammy.”  He ducked his head in embarrassment for a moment, then fixed me with a steady gaze.  “Your love for Xiùlán doesn’t mean we cannot love each other as well.  I can accept the fact that you and I can never have anything physical between us.”  With his ears and cheeks turning a ruddy shade of crimson, he added softly, “Well shit … did that sound as weird to you as it did to me?”

“Damn!”  I chuckled at his turn of phrase and replied, “I was beginning to worry we were going to have a problem, big guy.”  I stood and moved past him towards our kitchen area.  “I’m glad you see things so clearly.”  As I started to wash the dishes, he brought his in, then grabbed a towel and began to dry.  In a thoughtful tone, I said, “Back to Broker business, okay?  While Irin is taking us to the Citadel, I want to follow up on Zaeed Massani’s travels in the Terminus … see if he actually made landfall on Sanctum.”

“All right, then.  I’ll look into Kryllê Ghydgryz a bit more.”

“Sounds good, Griff … but I’d also like for you to focus on the money trail left by that deal-broker – batarian, name of Ugrolya Rarfenak.  He took a cut—over and above the 65-mil Ghydgryz was paid—for arranging the sale of that asari figurine to the Blue Suns, _and_ he screwed K’ath Din’sari out of her promised share once she had set up the meeting.  Hell, she would have paid with her life if Paddok Wiks hadn’t intervened.”

“Okay, Sammy.  I’ll start turning over rocks … see what crawls out from underneath.”

* * *

**♦ BRAVO WARD, AT LARGE · CITADEL, WIDOW SYSTEM ♦**

I had been splitting my time between our apartment and Iringù-Eßizkur while Griff and I were pursuing our several existing lines of inquiry … as well as our standard, every day data-mining, the stock-in-trade of the Shadow Broker.

Buchanan continued to impress me with his acumen for uncovering secrets others did not want discovered.  I had quickly come to appreciate his highly analytical mind … something the Systems Alliance—for all its so-called _expertise_ in matching service members to jobs for which they were best suited—seemed to have completely overlooked.  Their loss was my gain.

I had been running down leads concerning the Blue Suns’ illegal purchase of the asari figurine recovered from Mavigon by the turian Septivus Vulpez.  While I was looking at the threads connecting the carving’s illegal sale, I made a rather startling discovery, completely unrelated to anything we were researching.  A man—a term I applied rather loosely—not only survived the Reaper War, but had been given a cushy job within the human ambassador’s offices on the Citadel.  _Lt. Commander Garrett Sutton_ … _even after being relieved of command at Arcturus for malfeasance, you still managed to land on your feet.  You Goddamned dirty sonuvabitch!  Who’s pulling your strings now that the Illusive Man is dead?_

I had always believed everyone aboard Arcturus Station had been spaced when it was obliterated by the Reapers at the beginning of the war.  _Guess he made it off the station before they showed up._   Putting that knowledge aside for further investigation when I had a bit of free time, I continued to root through the hidden activities of the Blue Suns, and finally discovered the trail I had been looking for.

“Griff!  Take a look at this.”  I sent the file to his terminal aboard Iringù-Eßizkur.  “Turian female, name of Caecidia Verinus – runs the Blue Suns outpost on Sanctum, in the Decoris system.  Might be Massani’s target, but the only way we have of getting in touch with ’im is to send a text to his omnitool.”

 _“Send him a message, Sammy, without going into specifics_ … _he may be monitored.  Ask him to contact us when it’s safe for him to do so.”_

“I’ll do that.  Have you had any luck tracking our batarian hustler’s credit trail?”

_“I have.  Unlike our pirate captain Ghydgryz, Ugrolya Rarfenak stayed on Omega after getting paid; doesn’t appear he’s been living large – probably to avoid being noticed by Queen Aria.”_

“Damn.  I need to make a call to Thessia, Griff … see if Lady Liara has, or had, any enforcers on Omega Station.  I don’t want to go back there again … place is a fuckin’ pisshole, and that’s being kind.”

_“Okay, Sammy … I’ll finish what I’m doing here, then join you.  Want to get something to eat at the Smoke House?”_

“Sounds perfect.  See you inna bit.”

* * *

**♦ SMOKE HOUSE CAFÉ, DELTA WARD ♦**

After ordering our dinners—each of us had decided the fresh meatloaf with rice and steamed veggies sounded good—we sipped our drinks as we traded progress reports in quiet voices.  “I sent a text to Massani … asked him to call me at 0930 Sanctum local time.  That’ll be 2145 local.”  Taking a sip of beer, I added, “Also placed a call to Thessia, but didn’t mark it urgent, so should be hearing back in the morning.”

Griff used his fork to poke around a bit in his salad.  “I finally managed to dig up the account numbers for Ghydgryz and Rarfenak,” he said, fingers across his mouth to mask his words.  “Ghydgryz is nearly broke … hardly enough creds left to keep his last account open, and I don’t expect any will remain once the Council seizes it all on behalf of the Alliance.”  Taking a mouthful of greens, he chewed thoughtfully for a few moments, swallowed, then took a couple of swallows of beer.  “On the other hand, Rarfenak has several accounts, no two of which are held by the same institution.”

“Sounds like a smart person … scattered accounts—particularly if they’re with unaffiliated institutions—significantly decreases the risk that the entire amount could be seized, for whatever reason.”  I looked up as the waitress, an asari maiden, brought our dinners to the table.  Once she had left to bring each of us another beer, I said, “Are any of his accounts here on the Citadel?”

Griff nodded as he took a bite of meatloaf, followed by a forkful of rice.  “Batarian owned … branch of what _was_ a medium-sized state bank on Khar’shan.  Comms with the planet are still spotty.  Near as I can determine, none of our large mechanical friends have visited since they steam-rolled through the system at the start of the war.”

“Very little remains, Griff.  People? … Infrastructure? … All decimated.  Survivors have banded together with the peoples of Camala and Erszbat … formed a confederacy of sorts.  Of course, being batarians, they agree on virtually nothing and seem to be in a state of perpetual deadlock.”

Griff nodded as he continued to make short work of his dinner.  Polishing off his beer, he set the glass down and shoved his plate away.  “End of the war, former Captain Ka’hairal Balak returned to Kite’s Nest with the remnants of the batarian military fleet; he’s been using his charm and influence since then to keep the confederacy from fracturing the same way as the Hegemony.”

“Doesn’t really have any bearing on our Mr Rarfenak, other than the blanket amnesty offered by the confederacy to all of the Terminus batarians.”  Thinking about what I needed to do, I asked, “You say he’s still on Omega Station? … any chance he may have left?”

Griff showed his teeth in a brief grin.  “He’s still on Omega, Sammy.  Our agent reports he is seen in the batarian enclave every day.  Seems he’s been using his many connections to obtain a lot of the relief supplies that are being shipped to each of the three planets.”

I had finished my dinner as well.  “Come on, then.  I don’t want to have to rush to get back to the apartment, but I would like to do a bit more research before Massani calls.”

* * *

**♦ 2150 HOURS · SHADOW BROKER’S RESIDENCE, BRAVO WARD ♦**

I answered the comms call in full ‘Broker’ mode – a shadowed silhouette with the vocal tones of a monster.  “Zaeed Massani.  What services do you require from the Shadow Broker?”  I could see the old merc was not impressed … or fooled … by my act; still, he played along, which told me he thought it possible he was being monitored.

_“I’m callin’ fer infawmashun.  Need ter know everythin’ yew ’ave on Blue Suns operashuns on Sanctum.”_

“Have you found Caecidia Verinus? … she’s turian …  runs the Blue Suns outpost there.”

 _“Heard ov ’er … ’aven’t seen ’er.  Lots ov fuckin’ batarian soldiers down there, plus …”_ a gravelly chuckle, then, _“… a bunch ov middle managemen’ turians, struttin’ all ’round like people should be kissin’ their goddamned boots.  Blue Suns’ soldiers ’ere are scarce, but da ones what are ’ere are mostly turian.  I get da impression Verinus don’t like squints _… _can yew believe dat?”_ Voicing the question, he shook his head as if knowing what my answer would be.

“With Dal’Serah and Santiago in Alliance custody, Verinus is the closest thing the Suns have as an overall leader.  She was supposed to relocate to Zorya … a planet with which I trust you are quite familiar.  Reports from Zorya claim the Suns’ leadership do not want her there … they believe her to be nothing more than a troublemaker … like an amalgamation of all the worst traits of Dal’Serah and Santiago.”  I paused for a moment; when Zaeed offered no comment, I continued, “She needs to disappear … quietly … and permanently.”

_“Is da Alliance payin’ fer da ’it?”_

“The Systems Alliance does not sanction operations such as this, Massani.  I am sure they would prefer a capture; if you provide irrefutable evidence of Verinus’ demise to Captain Cody, it is possible you may be compensated for your efforts.”  I paused to retrieve a computer file, which I electronically attached to the carrier transmitting our conversation.  “There’s all the intelligence I have concerning the turian’s known travels between home and office, and her contacts … you should have no difficulty discovering the rest on your own.”   

Zaeed looked down as his comms unit received the data, then returned his one-eyed gaze to me and asked, _“What do I owe fer dis infawmashun?”_

Massani was never well-off financially, but I felt sure he still had a major portion of what the Alliance had paid for his capture of Santiago and Dal’Serah.  “My standard rates apply for this transaction, Massani.  I expect payment within ten days.”

 _“Guess I be’er shove off, then.”_   He reached down and cut the connection; I sat back in my chair as the screen went black.  Zaeed was exceptionally good at what he did … I hoped he would be able to quickly finish the hunt for Verinus.  Eliminating her would throw the Suns in that region into disarray, as they had no one capable of taking her place on short notice.  I had no illusions that the loss of six capitol ships and the disappearance of a highly placed leader would cripple their operations in the Terminus, but it would certainly be a damned good start.   

* * *

**♦ 0835 HOURS · SHADOW BROKER’S RESIDENCE ♦**

Reading the source code for the incoming comms call, I relaxed slightly as I sat in front of the terminal to answer.  The image of a beautiful asari maiden with brilliant blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks smiled at me as I accepted the call.  “Lady Liara … it is always a treat for me to speak with you.  Thank you for returning my call.”

 _“It is my pleasure to speak with you once again, Ms Traynor.  How have you been_ … _and how is Mr Buchanan?”_

“We are both fine, and thank you for asking.  May I presume you and Rachaél are doing well?”

 _“We are.  It’s amazing how relaxing a galaxy-wide peace can be.”_   Her face took on a slightly more serious expression as she said, _“Now, tell me how you have really been doing.”_  She actually smirked with her last question. _“What troubles have you and your partner gotten up to?”_

I spent the next ten minutes relating all that had taken place in our lives since the last time we spoke, including the revelation that Kryllê Ghydgryz had been captain of _Dragon’s Greed_ , my side trip to Grissom Station, and my conversation with Zaeed Massani the previous evening.

Liara nodded thoughtfully as she replied, _“It is good to know that Jack_ … _and Kahlee Sanders_ … _are once again working on the station.  Each was an incredible asset during the war.”_

“Major Alenko is doing a fabulous job there … repairs and reconstruction are continuing, although I get the impression he feels progress is much too slow.”

 _“That station is huge, Sammy_ … _Cerberus and the Reapers inflicted a lot of serious damage.”_

“I know.”  I shook my head minutely at the memories of a galaxy besieged, then asked, “Does it surprise you that I recruited Jack as a Broker asset?”

 _“That_ … _is surprising_ … _I cannot imagine Grissom Station would provide much information of any value to you, Samantha.”_   Liara glanced off to her side before commenting, _“You did not tell me how Jack responded.”_

I replied with a grim smile.  “After I laid it all out for her, I gave her an auto-encrypting transceiver – little something of my own design.  It can utilize the station’s deep-space antenna arrays without being plugged into their systems.  Being my agent won’t interfere with her teaching job … all she needs to do is keep her eyes and ears open.”

Before she could respond, I brought up the main reason I had wanted to speak with her.  “Liara, I need to know … Have you held back any of the Broker assets from me?”  Her immediate look of embarrassment actually answered my question, but I pressed on, nonetheless.  “I lived with you on board _Normandy_ , Liara … even shared your bed.  During our time together, I came to know you as a very caring individual.  I also discovered you possess a titanium spine.  You may not have relished the … less than civilized aspects of the job you inherited … but you never hesitated to deploy agents to perform wet work when it was required.”

 _“Oh, Goddess,”_ she whispered, hand in front of her eyes, thumb and fingers massaging her temples.  After several moments of silence, she dropped her hand and directed her full attention to my image on her terminal, the brilliant blue eyes from before now reflecting a shade of steel.  In a tone I had heard only once before—within Žiuk’Durmah, right after I used my fists to drop Javik to the deck—she asked, _“Why bring this up now, Ms Traynor?  Have you a need for agents capable of performing_ … _wet work?  And why would I hold back any other Broker assets?”_

Returning her steady gaze without flinching, I replied, “Liara, I am fully committed to my new role as the apex information broker in the galaxy.  As such, I require access to the entire network … all the resources you had at your fingertips during your time as the Broker … particularly before the war, in that massive vessel orbiting Hagalaz.”  Softening my expression and my voice, I concluded, “I believe you were waiting, Lady Liara … to discover if I would somehow fail … fail to live up to your expectations; I have not failed.  I believe I have met or exceeded your hopes.  Please … I need to have all of the resources that were available to you.”

The steely glint in her eyes had faded as I spoke to her; she smiled at me … or rather, my image on her terminal, light years away on the asari homeworld.  _“You are correct, Samantha_ … _I am holding back_ … _quite a lot, actually, and for that, I apologize_ … _though the numbers are obviously less than what existed before the war; I can see now that you fully intend to rebuild the network to the level that my predecessor enjoyed.”_   She turned her head, apparently studying something … or _someone_ … in the room with her.

With a brief nod, she returned her attention to me, saying, _“Come to Thessia, Sammy.  Before I do this, I want very much to meet with you_ … _and Mr Buchanan_ … _in person.  Once I am satisfied, I will encode everything you need on several OSDs_ … _much more secure for me to hand them to you than to transmit everything across space, even on a secure channel.”_

I knew the surprise I felt was visible in my expression as I asked, “Liara … are you sure?”

 _“Quite sure, Sammy.  You and Mr Buchanan will be our guests at the estate_ … _it will be our honor to be your hosts.”_

In a voice expressing a touch of skepticism, I asked, “You have enough space for Iringù-Eßizkur to land nearby?”

 _“Of course.  I’ll send landing coordinates to you when you achieve orbit.”_   With an anticipatory smile, she signed off by saying, _“We’re looking forward to your visit_ … _Shadow Broker.”_

After Liara’s visage faded from the screen, I sat back in my chair, having done my best to conceal my feelings while the connection was still active. The astonishment … the shocking realization … of the subtle shift in her perception of me was hitting me hard.  My mind was divided, trying to chase two thoughts at the same time … the first, I couldn’t help but wonder if Liara had seen the involuntary shudder I had worked so hard to suppress, and the second … _Holy shit!  Liara T’Soni had just called me_ … _the Shadow Broker!_ 

She had used my new title nearly every time we had spoken since I had taken over the network, but this time … _this_ time … there was something different in the way Liara said the words—her emphasis, her  enunciation, _something_ —that had sent a chill down my spine and made it hard to think about anything else.  Before today, it seemed to be merely a title … but something which I could not name had just shifted and it suddenly became … more … _much_ more. 

I was actually doing this; an entity that in my wildest dreams—at least not before the Reaper War and the galaxy going completely to hell I never would have considered—I had just _become_.  Somehow, simply with how she had said the words, it felt as if Liara was finally ready to convey the full responsibility and authority of the job upon me.  _The Shadow Broker._

* * *

**♦ 1305 HOURS ♦**

After a long walk followed by a light lunch, I was finally able to concentrate well enough to return to my info feeds.  I thought once again about my discovery that Lt. Commander Garrett Sutton had landed a cushy position inside the human ambassador’s offices on the Citadel, even after being relieved of his position at Arcturus Station for malfeasance.

His escape from Arcturus Station—seemingly just days prior to the Reapers pouring into Kite’s Nest at the beginning of the war—just didn’t sit right with me.  The man was a boil on humanity’s ass; that he was still alive and able to enjoy his life when so many others had died simply wasn’t justice. That he had been a Cerberus directed puppet when he fucked my personal Alliance record with a black mark before having me transferred to the shipyard was all the reason I required to begin plotting his demise.  _I need to make his death appear like a dreadful accident_ … _the unfortunate malfunction of a personal shield generator will do the job nicely, but only if he knows it is a gift from me_ , _seconds before he dies_ … _need to research the layout of the human ambassadorial wing of the embassies_ …

I was glowering at my terminal display as I thought about Sutton and Cerberus.  The Illusive Man’s organization had splintered once news of his death had reached Earth.  As much as he had always claimed Cerberus was an ideal … not dependent on any one person … the group rapidly fell apart without the charismatic leadership—and vast wealth—previously provided by Jack Harper.  As I scrolled through the enormous amount of data tied to Garrett Sutton, I came upon several transcripts of some of his many comms calls with the Illusive Man.

With increasingly outraged disbelief, I learned my theories of Cerberus’ complicity in having me transferred—first, to the shipyard, then to Alliance R&D outside London—actually had validity.  It had been Sutton who had attempted—through Kelsey Winters—to have me murdered, after I had nearly sliced Michael Moser Lang’s throat open the night he attacked me.  It came as a bit of a shock to learn Jack Harper and Sutton had calmly discussed ending my life … all because of Lang’s failed vendetta.  The transcript also provided proof—not that it would ever see the light of day—that Lang’s death due to a so-called  _equipment_ failure at the civilian freight docks had _not_ been the unfortunate accident reported by the yard superintendent.  _Not that it really mattered now_ … _not with the deaths of everyone having any involvement with Sutton’s machinations._

As I researched Lieutenant Commander Garrett Sutton’s Cerberus-directed actions, I was further amazed upon discovering just how many years he had been working for them.  Looking at what might have seemed to be his ancient history—shortly before he had been assigned to his post on Arcturus Station—three names nearly leapt out at me: Heather Gonzales, Marianna Walsh and Darius Holden.  _Sonuvabitch!  He was involved in Heather’s murder as well?_   As I thought back to the days and weeks I’d spent training on Mars, I wondered for a moment if he had known about _me_ back then.  _Not possible.  I couldn’t actively investigate Heather’s death, nor Walsh and Holden’s mysterious deaths in their cells, while still in school.  I couldn’t even travel to Earth in order to attend Heather’s funeral._

I no longer gave a damn about Walsh, or Holden … that they had paid the ultimate price for Heather’s murder at the Prothean dig site on Mars was poetic justice.  Discovering that Sutton—acting at Jack Harper’s behest—had placed Walsh in our SpecOps unit as a ‘student’ was the incontrovertible evidence I had coveted ever since she had viciously sliced Heather’s throat open; learning he had subsequently directed Walsh’s murder, along with Holden’s, during their stay in an Alliance lockup was a genuine revelation.  Whatever reasons I may have had for wanting to see Sutton pay for his mistreatment of me … of my personal record in the Alliance Navy … now paled in comparison to this newly uncovered material.  _After all these years, I finally have what I need in order to bring Heather some real justice for her untimely death._

As I pondered on all I had just learned, I thought briefly about contacting my _Inamorata_ in order to share my discoveries with her … and mentally kicked myself for even entertaining the thought.  _No!  Smarter to leave her completely ignorant of this discovery_ … _and_ _of what I intend to do.  Her love for me would place her in direct conflict with her sworn duty to the Alliance.  Better she learns of my involvement after Sutton meets his end _… _if I even choose to tell her about it at all._

Upon glancing at the chrono, I was a bit surprised by the lateness of the hour; Buchanan would be returning from Iringù-Eßizkur, where he was still researching Ugrolya Rarfenak’s financial background.  He had grown genuinely accustomed to working alone inside the destroyer-class Repository … professing to enjoy listening to the ancient melodies she played for her own amusement.  It was something I would never have expected from him, as he hadn’t been keen on working and living within a former adversary.  I wasn’t going to tell him of Irin’s recent conversation with me in which she admitted that, after spending the majority of her millenniums-long existence alone, she actually enjoyed his company.

As if on cue, I heard the access hatch unlatch and open, followed by footsteps entering the landing.  I locked my terminal and stood to greet him as he descended the circular stairs from our rooftop speeder garage.  “Hey, Griff.  We’re going to take a trip to Thessia in the morning … Lady Liara needs to meet with me … um, us.”

“How long will we be staying, Sammy?”

“Now that you ask, she didn’t specify… but I imagine it will be just one night.”  I spoke over my shoulder as I moved to the kitchen.  “If all goes well, she’s going to release the rest of the network to our control, including the agents that specialize in the less savory aspects of the Shadow Broker’s business.  We’ll leave right after we eat … Iringù-Eßizkur’s FTL ability should have us there by mid-morning local time.”

Griff yawned before observing, “Guess we’ll need to sleep while she’s traveling.”

“Sure.  Our research is partially automated, so it’ll continue while we rest.  I’m looking forward to visiting Liara and Shepard at the estate … I only wish we could have been there for her bonding ceremony with Spectre Shepard.”

Griff chuckled.  “That would have been a real treat, Sammy.”  After a moment, he concluded, “At least now, the place won’t be overrun with all their guests.  Ought to be a peaceful visit.”

* * *

 


	11. Learning Self-Restraint

_She is unpredictable, and unpredictable is another word for ‘threat’ when a woman wears it well. –_ Nikita Gill, _Fierce Fairytales: Poems and Stories to Stir Your Soul_

* * *

 ** _Ardat_** – demon (Thessian/Source: CDN)  
**_GST_** – Galactic Standard Time, standardized time system utilized by inhabitants of Citadel Council Space  
**_Húdié dāo_** – [蝴蝶刀 – butterfly sword] (knife in English)  
**_Ionúin álainn –_** beautiful beloved (Gaelic)  
**_Irin_** – Pronounced similar to the girl’s name _‘Erin’_ – Zaeed Massani’s shortened form of _‘Iringù-Eßizkur’_  
**_Liǔyè dāo_** – literally, a willow leaf saber; military sidearm for cavalry and infantry during the Ming (1368–1644)  
                   and Qing (1644–1911) dynasties in China.  It weighs from 0.9 to 1.3 Kg, and is 91 to 99 Cm. long.  
**_NDA_** – Non-Disclosure Agreement, signed by Yuán and Traynor at termination of the Ø7 program  
**_Ø7_** – An allegedly discontinued vocational code in the Systems Alliance military.  
        The **_Ø_** designates covert operations and the **_7_** refers to the highest level of proficiency.  
**_Siame_** – “One who is all”, a loved one cherished above all others (Thessian/Source: CDN)

* * *

**♦ INSIDE IRINGÙ-EẞIZKUR, AT LARGE · ATHENA NEBULA ♦**

As promised, I was awakened at 0600 GST by the sounds of musical instruments never heard or seen by humans, or any other race currently residing in the Milky Way.  Iringù-Eßizkur had a vast library of strangely ethereal music, all of it performed by incredibly ancient races … races of people that were over 350,000 years extinct.  I sat on the edge of my bed, holding my head in both hands with my elbows resting on my thighs.

As the lighting level in my room gradually increased, my ancient friend asked the same question she asked whenever I awakened from a night spent within her structure.  **›** _How are you this morning , Shadow Broker?_ **‹**

“Just fine, Irin … just fine.”  I used my fingers to comb through the tangled mess my hair had become while I slept, thinking, _I really should get this trimmed_.  “Where are we, then?”

 **›** _We will enter the Parnitha star system in one standard hour_ _; once in system, I will set a course for Thessian orbital insertion_. **‹**

Surprised by this, I stood and took the few steps necessary to reach the bathroom.  As I sat and relieved myself, I softly asked, “We left Widow over eight hours ago … was there some problem with relay alignment?”

Irin’s mechanical voice held a tinge of what I had come to recognize as embarrassment while she replied, **›** _I have traveled only minimally since you and Buchanan-Griffen began employing my structure for Broker business on a full-time basis.   It is _… _ exhilarating _… _ to once again be traveling somewhere _… _ anywhere_ … _between systems._ **‹**  After a brief pause, Iringù-Eßizkur continued in the same seemingly embarrassed tone.  **›** _I chose to bypass the relays completely_ … _I traveled between the nebulas utilizing my own faster_ - _than_ - _light capabilities_. **‹**

I pondered this as I finished my business, stood up and entered the shower stall; turning the water on initiated a semi-opaque kinetic barrier to contain the spray.  After lathering and washing my hair and body, I spent several minutes simply standing under the rainfall showerhead with my arms outstretched, palms placed above my head against the tiled wall, in order to enjoy the sensations brought on by the warm water falling onto my head and sluicing down my body.  Finally shutting the water off, I stepped out to dry myself, wrung most of the water from my hair and moved back into my bedroom to get dressed.  I still had questions for Iringù-Eßizkur, but they would keep until after I had downed at least two cups of coffee and eaten my breakfast.  As it turned out, she had a question for me.

 **›** _Shadow Broker_ _:_ _I get the sense you disapprove of my choice to avoid use of the relays_.  _May I inquire as to why?_ **‹**

I considered this as I joined Griff in the small kitchen area; my partner, having made a full pot of coffee, greeted me with a cheery ‘good morning!’ and a filled mug.  Taking a sip as I sat at the counter, I finally responded to Irin’s question.  “No disapproval was intended or implied, Irin.  Your choice simply surprised me.  Would you care to share your reasons?”

Responded after a short delay, she said, **›** _To use an old human expression, Friend-Samantha_ … _I needed to ‘stretch my legs ’_.  _I was able to travel through the void at my sustained maximum_ _speed for several hours_.  _It felt _ … _good_ … _a feeling akin to that which I felt while transporting supplies to meet Žiuk'Durmah, when Shepard-Normandy was running short of fuel and food._ **‹**

I shook my head minutely at Griff’s expression of puzzlement while asking, “Do Repositories actually need to travel through interstellar space in order to feel … alive?”

 **›** _I can only answer for myself, as I no longer know the minds of the others_.  _When I am docked at the Citadel, it is a privilege for me to serve your needs_ … _the needs of Buchanan-Griffen_.  _When I am transporting you to some destination in another system, I am still serving your needs, but_ … _you must_ _understand that I take immense pleasure in simply making the journey_. **‹**

Griff, having continued preparing breakfast while I spoke with Irin, set a plate of scrambled eggs and hash browns in front of me before taking a seat across from mine to begin eating from his own platter.  After taking a couple of bites of potatoes followed by a sip of coffee, he looked up at me and asked, “Having trouble?”

“Apparently, Irin’s a free spirit, and we’re keeping her tied down more than she likes,” I snarked, knowing we were being monitored by our enormous friend.

Her response was immediate, and about as expected.  **›** _That is **not** what I said, Shadow Broker-Traynor_. **‹**

With a wry chuckle, I replied, “Irin, I understand … you are truly alive, and you get bored.  I can assure you, Griff and I place great value on your contributions to our efforts.  We wouldn’t have been able to have made the trip to Elysium so easily, or Grissom Station, nor would we currently be approaching the Athena Nebula, if we were required to depend on a crewed transport.”  I paused for a sip of coffee, then finished with, “You have my sincere apologies for ever seeming to take you … or your services … for granted, Iringù-Eßizkur.”

Griff added, “That’s all true, Irin.  I’ve come to trust you during these past weeks … certainly not something that could have happened right after the war’s conclusion, even though Spectre Shepard chose synthesis to put an end to it.”

The slight ring of embarrassment apparent in her tone had changed to one of delight.  As a cheery tune began playing from the speakers in the overhead, she said, **›** _I have crossed into the Athena Nebula_ … _entering the Parnitha System in forty minutes_.‹

“Watch out for asari spacecraft, Irin.  It would be unfortunate if our visit here were to be remembered only for your collision with one of their ships.”

 **›** _I am approaching Thessia from above its orbital plane, Shadow Broker_. **‹**   Unlike the cheery tone of seconds ago, Irin’s voice reflected sadness.  **›** _Even before the relays were constructed, it was discovered very early on by my race that_ — _as a matter of practicality_ — _very few organics travel more than a few degrees above or below the planetary orbital plane_.  _Our understanding of this trait greatly enhanced our abilities to avoid early detection during invasions_. **‹**

I replied with a shake of my head.  “Every time I think I have learned every dirty secret used by the Reapers to make people’s lives a living, deadly hell, you surprise me with something new.”  Having finished breakfast, I took my plates and utensils to the sink and began washing up.  Griff came up beside me to add his dishes, then dried and put everything away as I thought about thousands of murderous machines entering our galaxy through the Citadel gateway.

Iringù-Eßizkur said no more as we finished cleaning up; I poured us each a second cup of coffee, picked my own mug up and walked into our lounge area, there to sit in the comfortable chair and watch Irin’s planetary approach on the large monitor.  Even though decelerating, she was still moving at a mind-numbing velocity.

Upon using a polar orbit to completely circle the planet once, Irin changed course and brought us to a geo-synched position over the vast city of Armali, where it was still early morning.  I walked around the partition to our research area, there to sit before the secure comms terminal; I placed the call to the T’Soni estate and waited … in a few moments, an image of an asari I had never seen resolved on the viewscreen.  In a ‘no nonsense’ tone of voice she said, _“Your ship identity is masked.  Please state your business.”_

Engaging Iringù-Eßizkur’s transponder, I smiled briefly as I replied, “Samantha Traynor, traveling with Griffen Buchanan; we have traveled here to meet with your mistress, Lady Liara T’Soni.”

The asari huntress allowed a hint of a smile to show as she replied, _“The Lady has informed everyone here of your imminent visit, Ms Traynor.  I am Huntress Jutika T’Vani.  I can now see that you are traveling within a_ … _”_ T’Vani paused for a moment to look down at her console.  Returning her gaze to the viewscreen, she continued in a questioning tone, as if not quite believing the information in front of her.   _“_ … _within a Destroyer-class Reaper?”_

With a chuckle, I responded, “Your information is correct, Huntress T’Vani … Iringù-Eßizkur is my guardian Repository, although …” I paused to think of how best to explain.  “She does not belong to me … or _anyone_.  She is … my friend.  That said, she _is_ quite large, so will need adequate space in which to set down.”

T’Vani grinned back at me.  _“Please.  You may simply call me Tika.  And you may rest assured the Lady took great pains to explain the area requirements for your_ … _conveyance.  All of our vessels have been repositioned to accommodate this visit.  Transmitting landing coordinates now_. _”_  Buchanan, who had entered the compartment and remained outside of camera range, nodded to me as Irin’s nav-array pinged in response to the transmission.

“Coordinates received, Tika.  Thank you.  Please inform Lady T’Soni we will arrive in thirty minutes.”

 _“Noted, Ms Traynor.  We are looking forward to your visit.”_   Acknowledgement complete, she terminated the connection.

I addressed the small console to my right, saying, “Okay, Irin … you can travel up the coast to the T’Soni estate, and set us on the ground there, please.”

 **›** _As you wish_ … _Friend-Samantha_. **‹**

* * *

**♦ T’SONI COUNTRY ESTATE, ARMALI REPUBLIC · THESSIA ♦**

Watching the precision with which Iringù-Eßizkur gently set her clawed feet on the pavement was of more interest to the people gathered behind the barrier below than it was to me, safely inside her structure … I had witnessed it a number of times, from much closer than anyone outside was standing.  I studied the upturned faces of the people below as Irin settled on the surface … most were interested, some were fearful, one or two distrustful.

I could well understand the trepidation from anyone that had endured attacks by similar machines during the war; from the ground, looking up at Iringù-Eßizkur’s massive ultra-black form was no less than the stuff from which nightmares were formed.  Irin’s voice shook me from my thoughts.  **›** _We are securely on the ground, Friend-Samantha_.  _I am extending the transfer tube in order that you and Buchanan-Griffen may depart to greet those outside_. **‹**    

During Iringù-Eßizkur’s descent to the planet’s surface, I had changed into my armor, with my _Húdié dāo_ in sheaths strapped to my boot tops and the hilt of my _Liǔyè dāo_ sitting just above and behind my right shoulder.  I was confident I would require neither my blades nor my armor on this visit, but I never left the security of Irin’s structure or my Bravo Ward apartment on the Citadel unless I was armed and armored; it was a habit I’d begun after Cartagena Station.  My dark gray leather duster hid most of this from casual view; the only hint I might be more than I seemed was my heavy boots.

I grabbed my travel bag and stepped into the nearly weightless environment of the translucent tube.  Stepping out at the bottom, I waited for Griff to exit the device; we both walked up to greet my former commander and her beautiful bride.  “Captain Shepard,” I said, grasping the proffered hand.  “It’s really good to see you after all these months.”  I released her hand as I turned towards Griff, saying, “Captain … this is Griffen Buchanan.”

As Shepard greeted Buchanan, I stepped up to my blue mentor.  I felt the tears in my eyes escape, to slide down my cheeks as I embraced Lady Liara; more than aware of the ceramic-composite plates on my arms and chest, I hugged her gently and whispered in her ear,  “I have missed having you in my life, Liara.”  I pushed back in order to introduce Griff, saying, “This big guy does a fantastic job of keeping me on a singular path … I’d be lost without ’im.”

Liara greeted Buchanan like a long-lost friend, then turned to the people waiting patiently behind her.  “Sammy … Griff … this is Captain Livos Tanni, team lead for my personal guard, and Matron Lyessa Raptos, steward for House T’Soni.”  After greeting them both, Liara continued with, “Shall we go inside?  We’d like to show you around the house … show you to your rooms, give you a chance to relax before we enjoy lunch.”

“Sounds good, Lady Liara,” I replied.  “I’ve really been looking forward to this visit.”

* * *

The spacious rooms set aside for our stay were luxuriously appointed, to the point that Griff commented as we met in the long hallway leading to the grand staircase.  “Sammy, this place puts every cheap-assed hotel room … and every nasty little apartment it has _ever_ been my misfortune to reside in over the years …”  he waved a hand around above his head to emphasize his point, “… completely to shame.  Mind you, the level of luxury I was ever able to afford, especially post-war, has a great deal to do with my distinct lack of experience with nice accommodations.  Hell, even my rooms on Grissom Station were rather austere.  But this?  I have to admit … I’ll be rather disappointed when it comes time to take our leave for our return to the Citadel!”

I smiled up at my partner as we began descending the stairs.  “Then I suppose it’s a good thing that we’ll only be here for one night … two, at the most.”  I added with a smirk, “Don’t forget who owns this estate, Griff.  House T’Soni is in the top three of the most important and influential houses on Thessia.  Any guests that find themselves staying the evening are most likely from highly important houses themselves … politically speaking, of course; anyone staying the night at this estate, or Liara’s residence in Armali, would be treated to the highest level of luxurious service no matter their station in life, whether on Thessia or any other planet.”

As I finished speaking, a matriarch—a huntress, by the look of her attire—greeted us at the wide entrance to the rather large dining hall; to refer to it as a mere dining ‘room’ did not do it justice.  “You must be Liara’s friends, Traynor and Buchanan.”  Abruptly sticking one hand out in the human fashion, she continued, “I’m Aethyta.  Liara’s dad.  She warned me you’d be hanging around for a day or two.”  Smirking, she added, “Told me to behave myself, but I don’t honestly believe that’s possible.”

I couldn’t help but grin as I reached out to take her hand in mine.  Nodding respectfully, I replied, “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine, Aethyta.”  Seeing her momentary puzzlement, I added, “Don’t look so surprised.”  I chuckled, knowing that I had caught her off guard with my quick acceptance of her utter disregard for proper asari decorum.  “Even if only half of what I’ve been told about you is true, I know better than to tempt fate by calling you ‘Matriarch’.”

As I released her hand, she laughed and then turned to face Griff, who had the good sense to simply follow my example.  He was also grinning as he said, “My pleasure as well.  Can’t say I’ve heard all the stories about you, but I trust my partner, so I do believe I’ll follow her lead … Aethyta.  Friends call me Griff.”

“Liara did say you two were smarter than most of the humans I’ve met,” Aethyta smirked.  “And I’m always happy to meet friends of my daughter’s.” Turning back towards me, she said, “Though, Liara has told me a few stories about you as well, Ms Traynor; including something about an altercation … during  _Normandy’s_ return trip from the edge of the galaxy?”

I could feel my cheeks flushing slightly at her revelation.  “Then I must assume she also informed you of our subsequent reconciliation … otherwise, I am fairly certain I never would have made it in the front door.”  We fell into step beside her as she led us to a nearby table.  “It is only because of her forgiveness that I am here today.”

She responded with a gravelly chuckle.  “She _did_ mention that … and also indicated you are a very interesting … and passionate woman.”  Glancing back towards the entrance, she concluded, “Ah, but our time is up – my _Little Wing_ is here, Ms Traynor … along with her pain-in-the-ass lover and bondmate.”  Aethyta smiled at Liara and Rachaél as they walked up to join us, completely oblivious—or, more likely—simply good at ignoring the disapproving glare from her daughter.  She raised a hand in farewell as she added, “Please … enjoy your lunch,” before turning and walking away.

“Sammy … welcome!  You as well, Griff.  I am thrilled to have both of you as our guests.”  Rachaél Shepard smiled as she placed a hand on each of our shoulders.  Turning to face Buchanan, she said, “Griff, I intend to monopolize your time here, especially as Liara will be meeting with Sammy concerning all the minutia of being an info broker.  It will be a treat for me to hear about your experiences during the war … that is, if the telling does not dredge up a bunch of unhappy memories.”

Buchanan grinned at the Spectre.  “I will be happy to share my experiences with you, Captain, even though I expect your time during the war was far more interesting.”

Shepard chuckled in a scoffing manner as she led Griff to the large table laden with selections of fish, cheese, veggies and fruits.  “My time trapped within the _Normandy_ _’s_ computer would probably be of more interest to you, Griff.  During the war I was just another soldier, not much different than you.  I expect you had fewer responsibilities, and you probably never had to regularly engage with Cerberus soldiers.”

I couldn’t hear Buchanan’s reply, as Liara took me by the arm so we could begin loading our own plates for lunch.  “I seem to recall you spent time traveling on an Oseros-class corvette—the _Ionsaí_ , I believe—so you most likely recall the different types of fish, cheese and vegetables we have for you today.”

I nodded as I inspected the offerings spread out in front of me.  “First time I was introduced to asari foods, Liara.  I developed a taste for _galea_ and sharp _uloth_ while traveling on that corvette.”  I sighed while quietly adding, “Best time of my life … before Xiùlán was injured … before our program was terminated.”

Having made my selections, I poured a glass of Elasa for myself, then followed Liara back to the table, where we sat far enough from Griff and Rachaél that we could not easily hear their conversation, while still being close enough to be heard if we needed to speak with each other.

Liara sipped from her glass, then deftly picked up two of the large green leaves— _yefal_ —from a side plate and nested them in one hand.  Scooping a spoonful of _ke’ah_ onto the leaves, she added a thin layer of _uloth_ , added a generous portion of galea, then finished by topping it with a spoonful of the thick sauce on her plate.  Rolling it all together, she took a bite, chewed and swallowed as I mirrored her actions.

“Delicious, Liara.  I had nearly forgotten how much I enjoyed asari cuisine.  It’s obvious to me I really need to visit more often, if only to have lunch or dinner with you.”  I was amazed to discover just how hungry I had become since breakfast aboard Iringù-Eßizkur; quickly finishing my asari leaf roll, I assembled another, choosing this time to add the sweet and spicy sauce to the fish.

“You should know that you and Mr Buchanan are welcome to visit anytime, Sammy,” she said with a broad smile.  “I truly consider you a member of my family so, even if we are not here, contact Lyessa and she’ll make the necessary notifications.”

Her words surprised me.  As I pondered her statement, her bracelet caught the light for a moment, flashing its reflection in my eyes.  _Damn!  I had missed her bonding ceremony with Shepard_ … _hadn’t even seen what they had purchased from T’Rhyn’s Jewelry._  “Your bracelet is beautiful, Liara.  Did you find that at the shop I told Shepard of? … in Serrice?”

She glanced at her wrist, then returned her gaze to me.  “T’Rhyn’s Jewelry.  Farnia remembered you the instant Rachaél told her of your recommendation that we buy our bracelets there.”  She placed her forearm in front of me so I could take a closer look.

I gently grasped her hand in order to inspect the polished yellow and rose gold cuff.  “It’s quite breathtaking, Liara … particularly with that inset gem.”  With a knowing smirk, I said, “Spectre Shepard picked this one out for you, didn’t she?”  Releasing her hand, I concluded, “Since your ceremony, it cannot be removed?”

The asari grinned, taking a sip of Elasa before she replied.  “Our bracelets fit comfortably but will no longer slide over our hands.  In that way, they are symbolic of how unbreakable our bond truly is … of how the promises we made to each other are meant to be permanent, Sammy.”

Having finished a third leaf roll, I sat back in the chair as I polished off the last of my Elasa.  “I should take a look at Shepard’s bracelet … see what she picked out for herself.”

Liara chuckled.  “What makes you so sure I didn’t make the choice for her?”

I allowed an expression of pity to show briefly before grinning.  “Really, Liara?  You seem to have forgotten what I now do for a living.”  I pushed my plate away and rose from my chair.  “Speaking of which, I am ready to begin our … meeting? … in your office, or within Irin, if you are so inclined.”

Liara also stood.  “We can meet in my office, Sammy.  Truthfully, I have no desire to ever again set foot inside that machine.  She served us admirably during our search for all of the Illusive Man’s bases of operation—particularly Lazarus Station—but my travels within her structure were not the best part of the experience.”

Nodding as we strolled out of the dining hall and down a passageway towards the rear of the main floor, I replied, “I was running comms on _Normandy_ when you and Garrus asked for our assistance.  I didn’t realize that setting you up to work inside Irin would continue to be so stressful for you.  I am so sorry.”

Liara slipped a cool hand onto my wrist as she responded.  “You have nothing to apologize for, Samantha.  What you did … convincing Iringù-Eßizkur to allow me, and Garrus, to live and work inside her structure—to serve as an operations base and transport for us—enabled me to find and retrieve Shepard’s clones.  My life since then has been more wonderful than I imagined it ever could be.”

She led the way into a richly appointed room, with a large desk on one side and a luxuriantly upholstered couch accompanied by several comfortable looking chairs on the other.  The far wall was set with floor-to-ceiling windows, allowing a nearly unobstructed view of the beautiful flower gardens, shrubs and massive trees that comprised the rear yard; a glint of water—the Kendra Ocean—could be seen in the distance.  A round wooden table with several matching chairs occupied the center of the room.

“This is a beautiful office, Liara.  I believe I would be hard pressed to accomplish _anything_ if I had to work in here for any length of time … I’d lose myself in staring out the windows.”

Liara spoke over her shoulder as she moved to her desk.  “The view is like a tapestry that is continuously changing … with the weather, and the seasons.  I never tire of it.”

The asari retrieved a flat package from the top of the desk before returning to the table.  “Please, have a seat, Sammy.  We can comfortably discuss our business here; once we’re done with all the documents in this packet, we can move to the couch or chairs to continue speaking of the many resources available to you as the Shadow Broker.”

I sat down with my back to her desk in order to avoid facing the windows; the view outside would be enough of a distraction from the side.  Liara took the chair to my right, opened the packet and slid the documents out onto the polished surface.  “When we spoke yesterday, you asked about enforcers on Omega.”  She handed me several papers as she continued, “Your answers are in here, including all the contact information for the small team that resides there.”

With a small grin, I glanced through the pages as I replied, “Team?  I wouldn’t think Queen Aria would allow anything like that on _her_ station.”

“She’s completely unaware of their existence; they work in the shadows, just as you do.”

“Thank you, Liara.  Having access to a team on Omega will be of great benefit to a situation I would like to address.”  I rose from my chair and moved to a nearby side table, where I poured a cup of _Kaffe_ for myself.  I looked at T’Soni with a questioning look; she shook her head slightly, so I returned to my chair, there to sigh in happiness after taking a sip of the delightful beverage.

“What situation on Omega requires the attention of the Shadow Broker, Sammy?”

I met her intent look with one of my own.  “A batarian, Ugrolya Rarfenak by name, persuaded a young batarian female to set up a meeting between himself, a pirate captain and the Blue Suns.  He promised her a small percentage of his ‘finder’s fee’, and then stiffed her.”  I paused to take another sip of _Kaffe_ , then continued.  “She went to Jipaw Zilorno, our salarian agent on Omega in an attempt to get help; he promised he’d have credits for her in no time.  All she received for her troubles was an attempt on her life by the Suns.”

Liara’s unhappy expression _should_ have been all I needed to see; I held my breath as she asked, “Samantha, you have become an amazingly effective data miner, so why should the troubles of one batarian female—or of _any_ singular being—be anything for the Shadow Broker to take a personal interest in?”

“Xiùlán and I were working for Asari High Command, tracking down a priceless figurine from the time of the Matriarchs’ explorations.  I tracked K’ath Din’sari from a dingy apartment on Omega to an equally squalid apartment on the Citadel, down in the foundations of Echo Ward, where Xiùlán met with her.”

Liara nodded several times as I explained what to me was now ancient history.  She spoke softly after I finished, but the strength of her conviction certainly rang through.  “Samantha, you seem to forget just how good I was at my job … before the invasion, _and_ during the war.  I came across the records of your search for the carving of Janiri … you and Yuán provided the asari with a tremendous service by retrieving it, but …”  Her pause lengthened from seconds to nearly a minute before she continued.  “ … but all of that must remain in the past.”

“I feel like I owe her, Liara.”  I stood and began to pace, suddenly feeling as though I was on unstable ground but not understanding why.  “She put her life on the line by meeting with Xiùlán, even if she didn’t realize it at the time.  I cannot allow that debt to remain unpaid.”

“For you, as an Alliance agent, K’ath Din’sari could very possibly have been worthy of your attention … _assuming_ she was even fortunate enough to survive the war.”  Liara sighed sadly and shook her head slowly before continuing, “But now, as the Shadow Broker, your focus absolutely _must_ shift to events of a much larger scale and import.  Pursuing personal interests will eventually get you identified … and, when that happens, will likely end in your death.  I could not bear to have that on my conscience, Samantha.”

I returned to my chair, the sincere, caring tone of Liara’s statement threatening to steal my conviction to help K’ath.  I picked up my mug, took a sip of _Kaffe,_ and leaned back, crossing my legs at the ankles as I contemplated my reply.  “It’s obvious we disagree about the best way to move forward on this.”  I took the last sip of Kaffe while attempting to think of an acceptable course of action.  “ _This_ being how _I_ choose to run the Brokerage … so, please explain to me how me personally helping someone can get me killed?”

“You were not with us when we took down the previous Broker, Samantha … a yahg that had held the position for a half-century or longer.”  Liara once again stared out the windows, her focus on nothing in particular; I watched her eyes turn to blue ice as she growled, “He took a personal interest in an agent, wanted him tortured and eventually dead … for no other reason than revenge … all to prove a point.”  She looked at me once again and her eyes snapped back into focus, her gaze boring into me.  “His name was Feron and, to the detriment of the Broker, he was a friend I was not willing to give up on.  He had originally assisted me in retrieving … Rachaél … from the Blue Suns, before they could turn her over to the Collectors … and I owed him the same in return.  I was determined to get him back.”

“Was it not Feron that was referred to by your commandos as _kena sa'ki?_   Didn’t Livos take care of him … permanently? … on Kahje, before the war?”

Her reply began as a raised brow-marking.  “Yes, she did … right after his second betrayal.”  She continued with a heavy sigh.  “Anyway, I was getting close … too close, apparently.  The Broker personally sent a hit squad—including Tela Vasir, an asari Spectre—to eliminate me.  My _Siame_ joined me to eliminate the Shadow Broker’s soldiers and take down Vasir, after which we departed Illium and followed the trail—with help from some crucial information provided by Cerberus—to track the _ardat_ to his ship, in orbit above Hagalaz.”

“In short, I used Feron’s capture to hunt the Broker down and—with Shepard’s assistance—kill him.  I never wanted the Brokerage – it was not my goal, yet it landed squarely in my lap when I suddenly realized the void that our actions had created.”  Liara’s voice took on a hint of the fire she had previously used as she said, “The Broker fully exposed himself by allowing his vendetta against me to become personal … his heavy-handed attempt to have me eliminated totally backfired … and ultimately led to his death.” 

She leaned forward in her chair and rested her arms on her desk, meeting my eyes as she continued quietly with a slight shake of her head.  “It is not that I do not want you to have the full power of the Brokerage at your fingertips, Samantha Traynor.”  She reached out and gently grasped my hand while pleading, “But you positively _must_ see the parallel in these actions.  It would surprise me if this Ugrolya Rarfenak did not have friends … friends that will not rest until his murderer is found and his death avenged.  Do not follow the path of the yahg, Samantha … you must be smart about this and keep yourself above the fray!”

Seeing the concern in her face and hearing the logic of her words, I accepted her hand and squeezed it back, remaining silent for many moments as I contemplated her warning.  “I honestly _do_ feel obligated to get K’ath her finder’s fee … but, perhaps, I can approach the whole scenario from a different direction.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking, Sammy.”  Liara’s eyes narrowed as she made her demand, so I knew I had to explain myself clearly … feeling as though my gaining access to the required Shadow Broker assets would be determined by what I said next.

Drawing a deep breath, I began.  “Our salarian agent … Jipaw Zilorno? … when I met with him in 2181, I told him a 65-million credit transaction had taken place in a tavern near his office.  I also informed him the proper transaction fees were never remitted to Aria T’Loak.”  From her look of surprise, I knew Liara was not aware of this.  “Perhaps it’s time that I rectify that omission.  The Broker’s agent could explain that, since the war has ended, we’ve had time to review all our records … and _he_ could offer to provide Aria that information … for a modest percentage of that transaction fee.”

Liara bared her teeth in a grin.  “Now, you’re thinking like the Shadow Broker, Sammy.”

“Thank you,” I chuckled as I polished off my mug of _Kaffe_.  “Given our discussion concerning my history prior to the war … and especially since I no longer feel bound by the NDA the Alliance forced on me … Perhaps you would be willing to offer insight on a second matter close to my heart? … corruption within the Alliance?”

“Yet _more_ corruption within the Alliance?”  Liara released my hand and sat back, pursing her lips in thought before shaking her head.  “With Rachaél finally deciding to leave the Alliance, I am somewhat loath to hear this … still, I know I must.”  Liara sighed heavily and continued.  “I will hear you out, even knowing that once I listen to this new discovery, I may regret agreeing to this.”

Nodding in understanding, I began.  “I ran across another pain-in-my-ass from before the war.”  After giving Liara a condensed version of all that had occurred from the time Griff and I had worked—and failed—to prevent the destruction of the turian vessel _Anixara_ , through my arrival and stay at Arcturus Station, until my transfer to Earth immediately before the war, I spoke of my discoveries concerning one Lieutenant Commander Garrett Sutton.  “I really hate to admit this to you, but I want to watch that bastard die, Liara … in the most painful way possible.”

By now, I was having a difficult time keeping my emotions reined in.  “I’ve obtained the Alliance transcripts of his communications with the Illusive Man … those miserable fucking wankers actually had the bollocks to discuss the possibility of murdering me … along with my friends! … as casually as you and I might discuss the weather!”

Liara immediately leaned forward to give my hand another squeeze; her caring touch calmed me a bit as she quietly explained, “Please understand, Sammy.  If I am to release the wet-squads to your control … they must only to be used to enforce Broker _rules_ … _not_ to carry out hits for personal vendettas; those are only to be completed as part of a contract … and are always arranged through an agent, not directly by the Broker.” 

Releasing my hand, she stood, clasped her hands behind her and paced to the massive windows, there to contemplate the view of the extensive flower gardens and greenery that comprised her rear yard.  After several minutes of silent observation, she turned to face me once more.  “Every job must generate income and leave a definite trail, Sammy … one that can in no way point back to the Broker … but to the one that made the request, be it a request for information or a request for … _elimination_ … of a competitor.  It is critical that you maintain your anonymity in order to remain alive … otherwise, you risk exposing yourself … and Mr Buchanan … to violent retribution.”

She walked slowly back to the table; retaking her seat, she continued to explain the need for caution.  “This all comes back to Heather Gonzales’ murder on Mars—at the hands of Marianna Walsh—after which, your actions and reactions became a matter of record … Yes?” 

When my resultant expression immediately confirmed her assumption, she did not wait for a verbal answer and quickly continued, “Were you to directly cause Sutton’s death, the inevitable question asked by investigators would be _‘Who could have wanted the lieutenant commander dead?’_   If the answer points back to you personally, you have exposed yourself … your entire operation … to very undesirable scrutiny, Samantha.”

After several moments of silence, Liara smirked as she concluded, “So, my dear Shadow Broker, do you see the reasons that you cannot be so direct?  Use the resources you have at hand to discover another of Sutton’s enemies … a man like that _must_ have more than a few; all you need is one! … one who has the desire … the need, to see him gone every bit as much as you!  _Find_ that person, Samantha! … then feed them what they need.  Remember, there are three parts to a murder: desire, capability, and motive.  Be patient … find that enemy … that one person in possession of all three, and fan the flames.”

I thought about what she had said, particularly concerning her own history with the previous Shadow Broker, and it made me wonder … if perhaps I had shared my new identity with a few too many people.  I felt it was unfortunate that Captain Cody, Major Alenko, Zaeed Massani and Master Gunnery Sergeant Patton already knew what I was doing; it was also possible that Admiral Hackett and Miranda Lawson were aware of my new title as well.

Thinking about T’Soni’s search for a Cerberus created clone for Shepard led me ask, “Liara, would I be correct in assuming that, when you and Garrus were on Cronos Station, you downloaded _all_ of the information concerning Jack Harper and the operations in which Cerberus was involved … up to the time the Alliance Navy assisted Shepard and her squad in taking control of the station and securing the Prothean VI?”

Liara momentarily ducked her head in thought; looking back up, she softly replied, “Your assumption _is_ correct, Sammy … I had Iringù-Eßizkur download every last bit of data concerning Cerberus operations … galaxy-wide; I regret never having the time needed to look at everything she obtained, but it’s all still archived within Iringù-Eßizkur’s memory core.  Why do you? …”

“Thanks to our conversation,” I interrupted, “I just realized I need to research all of Harper’s communications with Alliance personnel … particularly his comms with Sutton … _and_ his comms with Admiral Owen Fletcher, the miserable húndàn [混蛋 – _asshole_ ] that gave me up to Michael Moser Lang.  Fletcher was sucking at the credit teat of Cerberus and the goddamned Illusive Man.  He used his rank to steamroll the other top brass into allowing the destruction of the _MSV Anixara_ , _and_ he was the driving force that convinced senior staff to terminate our Ø7 program.”

After all this time, the destruction of the turian ship _still_ felt like a personal failure to me.  “It’s obvious he was only working with the Illusive Man for the creds.  Ultimately, he didn’t have the bollocks to stand for his crimes, choosing to eat a bullet instead.  I need to find Harper’s and Sutton’s comms records … the records of their conversations concerning me.  Having certifiably genuine copies of their comms from Cerberus _and_ the Alliance should be more than enough to bring Sutton down.”

Liara nodded, then said something that really surprised me.  “Once you have located the Cerberus records of Harper’s and Sutton’s treacherous machinations, give them to Shepard, along with the records from the Alliance.  Spectres are not required to divulge their sources.  I don’t believe Rachaél will kill the Lieutenant Commander, but proof that he was working hand-in-hand with Cerberus, along with all the other sabotage perpetrated by him for their benefit, should be enough for the Systems Alliance to charge him with treason.”

“You’re right … if I want to see him brought down, it will have to be because he was working for the Illusive Man from the time Arcturus Station was completed.  And what if he were to get off, Liara?  A slick attorney—paid for by the Alliance, for craps sake—may be able to get any and all charges dismissed.  And unfortunately, revealing his discussion with Jack Harper about murdering me will only expose me to scrutiny I don’t need.

“There is that possibility, but consider … the negative publicity alone will most likely ruin him.  An Alliance officer? … clandestinely doing business with an avowed terrorist organization such as Cerberus? … especially in the years right before the war.  He managed to get transferred to the human diplomatic mission on the Citadel; is it not likely he continued to work for the Illusive Man during the entire war?  Goddess!  He was probably involved in the coup attempt with Udina!”  The asari paused, thinking about Sutton’s deceitful past.  It wasn’t difficult for me to guess the direction in which her thoughts were sending her.  Riveting me with an intense gaze, she said, “I would expect that being disgraced in this manner would force him to resign from the Navy.”

She fell silent again just before someone first knocked, then slowly opened the door.  Shepard stuck her head in just enough to look at Liara.  “Mr Buchanan wants to know if he may join you.”

We both stood up as she softly replied, “Yes, _I_ _onúin álainn_ … please, come in … both of you.”  Turning to me, she indicated the papers on the table with a small wave of her hand, saying, “I believe the rest of our discussion can be accomplished more comfortably while sitting in the chairs.”  Including Griff as she waved her hand, she added, “Please?”

* * *

 _ **AN:**_   _My gratitude to Desert Sunrise for allowing me to use several of the asari characters she has taken great pains to create and nurture within the series, **Chronicles of Samantha Shepard.**_   _As I've previously stated, Desert Sunrise’s galaxy is not the same as mine - think of it as existing in a parallel universe.  Where it concerns the asari, however, we are both very much of one mind.  I hope you continue to enjoy the tale I'm crafting with D.S.’s assistance._

* * *

 


End file.
